


...And The Things That Followed

by Lavender_chan



Series: Things [1]
Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Completed, Drama, F/M, Multi, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_chan/pseuds/Lavender_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sound of the Hunter started not long after you entered the city. You had run into his kind before, but there was no way you could possibly be prepared for what lay ahead of you, with this Hunter. There was something scary and almost exciting about being loved by a monster… (ReaderxHunter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Metro

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks! I found this site recently and am going to start updating things on this site! Luna is a great site, but since all my requests to be validated are being ignored (*ahem*) I've decided that its not the site for me.
> 
> Here's "And The Things That Followed."
> 
> (psst, those that have already seen the ending, there *is* a sequel in the works, first chapter will be posted as soon as I finish posting this one!)

You had bared witness to an apocalypse. And of all things, you had bared witness to a zombie apocalypse. Who would have guessed that your life would have been turned upside down by the very creature you were so fascinated by [1].

You groaned lightly as you pushed the heavy door open. Coming out of a safe room was always a hairy prospect, but you couldn’t waste your time dawdling in a room, waiting for the rescue that was never going to come. CEDA had long since evacuated what humans they could and left the rest to rot in their concrete and paved tombs. So you pushed forward, this time opening the door to the subway that ran under the city. A large hole in the floor seemed to be your best bet at actually getting down to the tracks.

You took one last look at the warm safety of the safe house, seeing all the words on the wall and all the discarded guns and ammo; you could see life in that room. Life of the survivors who used that room before you. It was how you comforted yourself; by telling yourself that it could have been only hours before that another human had used that room and you might have run across them.

But it was not to be. You had awoken alone in this apocalypse, after the horror` that had killed your family, and you were alone still, weeks into this hellish nightmare. You weren’t too heartbroken about it though. Even before the world went to hell, you had preferred solitude to large groups of people. Large groups of people were unpredictable, easily set into a panic, and easily given the idea of power in numbers. Large groups of people couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed. Still, it would be nice if you could find even one person to travel with. You had resorted to talking to yourself for entertainment, and you knew that was the fast road to insanity in this kind of situation.

That’s when it started again. That low rumbling growl that echoed in the subway around you; a Hunter. You looked around cautiously, but nothing stirred. This sound had become increasingly familiar to you. Ever since you had entered this city, via tunnels much like the one you’re about to walk deeper into, that low growl had accompanied you.

Never attacking, but always watching, your imagination placed this deadly killer just outside your vision in the dark. Considering how dark it was, it could have been three feet in front of you, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it until you walked straight into it.

You didn’t know why it didn't attack. Many times, while you slept in safe rooms, your dreams included the hunter entering the safe room, its growls going silent as his claws reached forward to dig themselves into the soft flesh of your throat…

That thought sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t even want to think about death, even though it was surrounding you.

You approached the ticket booth in front of you, glancing inside. Your heart lifted as you saw a familiar red box, sitting on the floor of the booth. It was your lucky day! Med-kits were hard to come by out in the city, and you thanked the poor soul who dropped it as you used the clip on it to clip it to your belt.

You searched the other ticket booth, finding nothing, before you moved on. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking you at the opening above you. There was a lot of ways you could be ambushed by special infected if you went up these stairs.

The thought didn’t scare you as much as it should have. It really didn’t. It’s not that the special infected didn’t scare you, because they did. They were the only cause of your nightmares now. But you hadn’t seen a special infected in literally days now. They stopped attacking after your first night in the city, and you had yet to even so much as hear one nearby.

The low growling coming from behind you corrected your last thought. You had heard one special infected. And you were positive that it was the same hunter, after so many days here in the city. As hard as it was to believe, that gave you a small comfort.

Not that you were ready to let your guard down, but knowing that the special infected were still around helped you know that even though the world had went to hell, this hell wasn’t changing much. Sure, you had pissed yourself when you ran across your first tank, and that last witch almost tore your head off, and even though the other three types, more common than the first two, had done their fare share of damage to you, It was the consistency you were looking to.

Call it insanity, maybe you’ve been alone for too long, or maybe it’s just your own strange way of keeping sane, but knowing that when you hear a growl, it’s a hunter, knowing that when you hear that raunchy coughing, it’s a smoker, and knowing that the gurgling mass of groaning was a boomer gave you a sick kind of peace. It was the only peace you could have in this twisted and sick world that was full of death.

The growling got a little louder and you glanced behind you, if only to make sure it wasn’t standing right behind you. It wasn’t and so you moved on.

The subway cars, what was left of them, were stained with blood and littered with bodies. You had seen so many bodies at this point; they simply became background props to you. It was a little heartless, but you couldn’t sit down at cry for every poor soul lying dead around you. That would only get you killed.

No supplies were in your line of sight, and the idea of searching every subway car you came across just boded ill to you. Perhaps it was the idea of peaking your head into one and finally finding that Hunter that was following you. Even though it had yet to show its hooded face, the creature itself still scared the shit out of you.

You had been trapped underneath a Hunter before, and you never wanted to feel that helpless again.

You shook your head. You couldn’t just sit here, thinking. What had come over you? You were never this sloppy; daydreaming like this could get you killed!

You switched your gun to your other hand, just so you could wipe the sweat that was forming on your right hand, before switching back. This handgun was nowhere near powerful enough to stop special infected, but the shotgun you had been toting until recently had stopped working after your last horde attack, before the last safe room. It might have been the fact that you had panicked and had used every inch of the gun like a bat, but you knew jack-shit about guns.

The growling got louder again and you glanced behind you. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw movement behind one of the subway cars you had already passed. Had it always been following so close? You moved forward, away from the thing behind the car, but you kept one eye in that direction, your heart hammering in your chest as you put as much space between you and the Hunter.

You stopped dead when you heard a terrible wheezing cough come from behind you. You froze, barely aware that the Hunter’s growl getting louder. You moved slowly, moving your head to look. The Smoker looked at you, seemingly aware that you were watching him. The standoff lasted only a second longer before his lightening –like tongue darted forward, its slimy grasp reaching for you.

You let out a startled cry, throwing yourself out of the way of the overly long appendage. The smoker gave a cry of detest, preparing to attack again. You didn’t want to give it the chance. You opened fire, shooting only half-blind as you tried running back the way you came.

That’s when the Hunter’s loud growling made you stop. You were trapped by two special infected; one on each side of you. A Smoker ahead of you, a Hunter behind [2]. You almost felt like crying. You didn’t want to die; you had worked so hard to stay alive for this long! You didn’t want it to end like this!

You backed into the side of the subway tunnel. You looked from one side to the other as both the Smoker and the Hunter got closer.

Suddenly, the Smoker gave a loud cry, shooting his tongue toward you. The Hunter shouted out his cry as well and you close your eyes tightly. You didn’t want to see who would get to you first. Your body tensed, knowing that pain and death were coming…

Except that it never came. You could hear the Hunter attacking something. I mean, what else could those snarls mean? You peaked an eye open and then opened your eyes wide with shock.

The Hunter was on top of the Smoker. Clawing him to death, ripping the Smoker’s rotted flesh from its body. You shuddered at the scene, feeling ready to throw up as you watched the infected murder its own kind. The gun in your hand was nothing but useless weight as you watched the scene.

Suddenly the Hunter stopped its attack. It backed away from the body, watching it for any signs of unnatural life. There was none. Then the hunter turned to you, its clothes and claws freshly stained with its recent kill.

You pressed yourself against the wall as hard as you could. Apparently, this Hunter didn’t want competition in its search for a meal. Your breath hitched in your throat as the Hunter crawled toward you. You could hear his nose working, taking in your scent and the smells of the subway [3].

You couldn’t breathe properly as he moved even closer, stopping when his face was only a foot away from your knees. You shivered, unable to move, unable to even raise your gun to defend yourself. For the first time, you watched as the Hunter stood on his back legs, hunching like so sort of strange toddler who isn’t used to balancing in such a way.

Even hunched like that, he was still taller than you. You couldn’t see under his hood, but his mouth was closed in a firm line as he leaned closer, his clawed hands finding the wall on either side of your head. Your heart sped up, your breath finally coming, but in short, shallow gasps.

What was this thing doing?

It leans forward, its face only inches from yours. Your body tensed. Suddenly its nose started to work away at you again. It surprised you. It did more than that, but how could you explain the massive shock going through your body as his nose sniffed around your face and hair.

You swallowed hard, not daring to move for fear it would cause this Hunter to grow anger and strike. At this distance, it could tear your throat out before you could even think to scream. Your body tensed even harder as its nose led it to lean close to your neck. Why, oh why did you have to think about ripped-out-throats the exact moment before its mouth was mere centimeters away from said body part?

Your body trembled slightly, the idea of dying hanging so closely in your mind that you couldn’t hold the action back. The Hunter paid the action no mind, however. It was intent on its little mission, whatever that was.

After a few tense moments, he seemed satisfied with his search and dropped back down to his crawling stance. You watched him, trying to calm your breathing down as he began crawling away.

Was that it? He wasn’t going to attack and eat you?

You watched him closely, nonetheless. A hunter was the fastest moving of the special infected, bar none. It could easily whip around and jump you before you could raise your gun. You blinked, looking down at the said object in your right hand. With the Hunter’s back turned, it would be little trouble to shoot it in the back of the head. It would end that growling that was following you, you were sure of that now. You raised your gun, shaking only a little.

This thing, for whatever reason, had followed you for days in this city. And for whatever reason, he never attacked. That thought stopped your trigger finger. But why? Why had it followed your? Why wouldn’t it attack? You couldn’t even begin to fathom any sort of reason for it. A sudden thought crossed your mind.

Maybe it’s a vegetarian…

The thought surprised a small giggle out of you. The giggled turned into a small laugh and you were gone. You slid down the wall, trying to hold back the foreign sound of your own laughter. You couldn’t help it. Those last few moments had been so tense and utterly filled with hopeless prayers that if you didn’t laugh right now, you’d probably go insane.

Not that laughing during such a moment wasn’t crazy.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You shook your head lightly and pushed yourself to stand shakily. The echoing growl had begun again, and you knew this strange Hunter had taken its place in the shadows again, ready to stalk you in the background again. You shook your head lightly, if only to rid yourself of the strange smile that was on your face.

This Hunter was probably going to kill you soon. He probably just wanted to follow you around, to hunt you, as it were. You were fine with that, for now.

After all, now you knew why you had yet to run across any other special infected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This is me. In a nutshell. Haha, I’m such a zombie nerd, you could probably quiz me about anything zombie and I would be able to answer you xD  
> [2] This once happened while I was playing online with my friends. The smoker and hunter (who had also been friends of mine, but I had no idea since the teams were mixed) just stared me down for the longest time before my friend messeged me and said, “Choose your destiny…The smoker shall lead you to salvation, the hunter to ruin…but he’s hell of a lot more fun lol”. Of course I chose the hunter and he followed me around the rest of the level xD  
> [3] I’ve always thought of Hunters as like Lone wolves (or maybe puppies…sometimes…heehee) ^^ it’s probably why I love them so much haha


	2. What it was like to fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, in which we get a peek into the mind of the hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer (because I totally forgot it in the first chapter haha): I do not own Left4Dead or Left4Dead2, nor the characters within. I do own this story, as it is mine, which I started 30 minutes before going to work and had to rush to get it posted before I had to run to work xD  
> Please enjoy!

Even in his human life, he wasn’t much for thinking. Being an adrenaline junkie had left him with an average IQ, but a wonderful sense of what it was like to fly. When he had first been bitten, and felt himself turning into one of those _things_ , the only thing he remembers wishing for, was for the chance to fly one last time.

He didn’t get the chance, of course. He had been bedridden (or, sleeping bag ridden, if you like) in a safe room by the time he realized he was going to die. His travelling buddy had no clue what to do. He panicked in a corner until the very last breath.

Of course, the traveling companion, whose name no longer meant anything to him, had never expected his friend to suddenly let out a terrifying growl. And he certainly never expected for his dead friend to get up, hood falling back to reveal his dead, now feral face.

That had been the Hunter’s first kill.

His second had come when the next lone survivor had opened the door, freeing him from his safe house prison.

Life as a Hunter hadn’t played much into his mind. It was like he had never known any other life before this one. Of course, a part of him seemed to realize that something had changed within him recently; something important.

At first, he found himself hating the idea of being alone. He sought out others like himself, but they had been purely instinct-driven animals. They had no interest in him, other than they might be able to kill him to snag an easy meal.

He followed his instincts as well. They had kept him alive up until now. However, there were always the passing thoughts in his mind that appeared without warning or question. He had no reason to question these small thoughts. He had always had them, even at the beginning, when he killed that man in the safe room.

The thoughts weren’t always coherent. In fact, most of the time, they were babble to him. Spoken in a familiar, but forgotten language. What caught his attention, more than the thoughts, were the emotions. They were muted; it was like putting your hand under a stream of water with a latex glove on. You could feel the water moving over the glove, but your hand never actually gets wet.

He didn’t really care to know how long he had been a Hunter when he finally ran across you. Having just fed, he had quieted his growling to watch you stumble through the tunnel. The darkness hid him perfectly as you walked right by him, without noticing a thing. You had walked so close, he could have reached out and ran his clawed hand up your leg.

As you passed, your scent had wafted in front of his nose. You had smelled of death, as did all the humans he ran across. But underneath that smell, he could still catch your natural scent…it was a pleasing odor to him. And it had been so familiar…like the wind.

You had smelled of what it was like to fly.

~*~

You cursed silently as you tripped over another dead body. After your run in with the Smoker and the strange Hunter, you had quickly found the end of the subway tunnel; unless you felt like crawling over a pile of rubble, toward the sound of hungry moans, which you didn’t.

At first, you thought you would have to turn back. That thought scared you. If you turned back, you’d have to pass right by that weird Hunter, and you didn’t want to push your luck. It may not have attacked back in the tunnel, but it was still a zombie. And zombies eat people. And you are a people.

Thankfully, off to your left, there was a maintenance door. And look at this, next to the door, on the floor next to a sturdy wooden table, there was a rifle. You had used a rifle only once before, but having a rifle was a hell of a lot more useful than using a handgun with only 15 bullets left. Looking under the table, you found 12 more bullets for the rifle. Lady luck was smiling widely on you tonight.

First the med-kit, than your miraculous survival with the Smoker and the Hunter, and now a gun out in the middle of an open area. Sweet. You weren’t about to question the appearance of the items, but something told you that whoever left them, had left them for an important reason. They were valuable loot, after all.

You shook your head. The Hunters soft growl was behind you, louder than before. You glanced back and you were a little started to see him crouched at the opening of the subway car you had to pass through to get here. He didn’t move any closer; he just merely crouched there, still as a stone as he watched your movements.

You took a couple steps backward, your back coming in contact with the door behind you. You tensed as you saw it move. He dropped down onto the tracks, out of sight for the moment.

Your chin raised slightly as you unconsciously tried to catch a glimpse of the stalking predator. He didn’t come into view, seeming to prefer to wait out of sight. You opened the door behind you without turning, letting it swing open fully before you tapped your foot a couple times. Truthfully, you were curious. About as curious as this thing was about you. The noise you made was supposed to sound like you were walking away, to see if the Hunter would move closer.

It worked, to a fashion.

With a quick, silent hop, the hunter jumped backward, to the other side of the tracks. His head tilted slightly to one side, seemingly confused that you hadn’t moved. That actually made you smile. You shook your head slightly.

What were you doing? This thing was probably following you so it could kill you! You looked at it again before backing into the doorway. You doubted you could force yourself to turn your back to the creature, even knowing it had probably been following close to your heels.

You took another step back and suddenly the Hunter, crouched, his growl changing. Before you could have possibly described it as a low rumble in its chest; something that he didn’t seem to be able to stop. Not so much threatening as just a way to make his presence known.

This growl, however….Loud, teeth bared, and able to reach into your chest and grip you even from such a distance. You froze. Oh god, you just jinxed yourself with that last comment about him waiting to kill you. You were about to turn heel and run when another sound caught your ears. It was a heavy panting, coming from a deep chest. Grunting and making just a racket with its throat.

Fear gripped your insides. That sound belonged to one special infected, and one alone. How could you forget the first time you heard this sound? You had originally thought it belonged to a horse of some kind. It had confused you terribly, seeing as you had first heard it in an apartment building, just about four floors off the ground. However, there was no horse. It was a Tank.

You turned slowly, looking up the flight of stairs that were there. You couldn’t see the Tank, which meant he had no idea you were there. You heard the Hunter give its piercing cry. The tank, obviously in the room at the top of the stairs, didn’t care about the Hunter’s noise. You backed away from the stairs.

Your luck was so rotten, what had you been talking about before? First the Smoker, which you only survived because of a freak Hunter who was waiting for his next hunger pang to kill you, and now a Tank? Even the Hunter behind you couldn’t save you from a Tank, if said Tank decided he wanted you dead.

You had successfully backed away from the door without making a sound. Your heart hammered in your ears so loud, you couldn’t hear the Tank anymore. You took a shaky breath and took another step back.

Bad move.

The step was missed as you stepped off the edge of the platform and fell back with a short scream. The feel of the iron rails slamming into your back forced the breath from your body. You couldn’t move for the pain, you couldn’t even take your next breath.

The sound of the Tank still rang in your ears though. You could hear his angry roar. You could feel the ground thunder beneath you. You couldn’t force yourself to move and for the second time in only half an hour, you knew you were going to die. Your vision filled with tears from the pain and the fear.

Death.

The sound of that word was ringing in your ears when the Hunter gave another angry shriek. You couldn’t move to see what the Hunter was doing, but you felt it. His claws were suddenly on your right arm, pulling you with more strength than 5 normal men. His claws dug in as he dragged your back up off the railings, and into the dark room with the wide open doorway that was across the tracks from the maintenance door.

Once inside the shadows, out of site of the subway platforms, the Hunter slammed you onto the ground, causing you to whimper in pain. Your whimper caused him to growl angrily and tears pricked your eyes again. Death by Tank, Death by Hunter; you were being jerked in so many different directions, and fear was confronting you in so many different ways you couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t even see straight.

You closed your eyes against the dark room, even as you felt the Hunter climb on top of you to pin you to the ground, his face close to yours, his rotting breath filling your senses. You felt sick, and your arm was starting to throb where he had clawed you. You couldn’t stop another quiet whimper, the Hunter’s weight preventing you from getting any real air to make the sound louder.

The Hunter was suddenly quiet above you. You had no idea that a Hunter could be so still…so stealthy. 

Opening your eyes, you could barely make out the shape of the hunter, with the little light coming in from the subway platform. His face, though still close to yours, was turned to look at the open doorway, where the sound of the frustrated Tank came. His whole body was tense above you. His body reminded you of a lean and lithe predator…something animalistic and feral, poised to strike down its prey. The fact that he was crouched over you, almost protectively, almost predatorily, sent shivers up and down your spine.

The Tank was getting louder, closer to the door. The Hunter suddenly allowed a growl to sound from deep in his chest. If you had thought the growl affected you terribly when you were across the rails from him, it was nothing compared to having him do it while being so close to your body.

You could feel the vibration throughout your body; it sent terrible chills outward from your stomach, and yet the chills weren’t entirely unwelcome. They were something to focus on; a feeling other than fear and dread. Even the weight of the Hunter on top of you helped you to focus your terrified and scattered mind.

You clamped your mouth shut. This Hunter was protecting you again. The confusion was secondary to the next idea that came to your mind.

_If he wasn’t to protect me so badly, then let him…while he’s keeping the Tank busy, I can get away; I could use the distraction. Heaven, watch over me…_

A terrible taste was left in your mouth, even as you thought those words. But why should you care? This monster above you wasn’t even alive! He, no… _IT_ was a zombie! IT had its chance at life and IT failed. But not you…No, You couldn’t die here…

You still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of just leaving the Hunter to deal with the Tank all alone. Even if it was a monster, undead and seeking human flesh. Even if it was probably going to kill you later…It didn’t sit well with you to just abandon the creature that had saved you once already and was trying to save you again.

Your mental debate came to an end. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to find out whether or not you would stay to help the Hunter, because the Tank was leaving. You couldn’t tell which way he was going, whether back up the stairs or down the tunnel where you came from, but soon the quiet of the subway over took you and the Hunter. Even the zombies had quieted their moans in response to the Tank.

You refocused on the creature that had you pinned to the floor. You had been here before, with a different Hunter, in a different place. The same feeling of helplessness had overtaken your senses. You couldn’t move; truthfully, you didn’t want to. If you moved, it could draw attention to you. At this moment, you knew that as soon as he refocused on you, you were mostly likely going to die. No Hunter had ever been in this position and _not_ clawed the object It was sitting on to death. You had never seen it happen, and you had never heard of it happening.

The Hunter suddenly moved and your breath hitched in your throat. Its face moved to look down at you. You held your breath tightly behind your lips as the Hunter studied you. His movements were slow, almost leisurely as he moved off your body.

For a moment, relief flushed over you again. Until he stopped just short of getting off of you. You tensed, watching him, hoping and praying he wasn’t about to jump back on top of you to maul you. Instead of doing that, however, his hand slowly reached down for your right arm. You were confused at his actions, but hissed in pain when his fingers brushed up against the claw marks.

The Hunter studied your reaction, not knowing what to make of it at first. Instead of dwelling on it, he merely nudged your right arm, getting you to lift it from the dirty concrete floor. You followed his lead slowly, wary of what he might do.

An open wound for zombies was like blood in the water for sharks. He leaned close and you tensed, expecting razor-like teeth to tear a chunk out of your arm.

You stood stock still as you felt something warm and wet slide against your wound instead. He was _licking_ you. You almost pulled your arm away in disgust. Seriously, why was he licking the scratches that _he_ \--

You blinked slowly as it dawned on you.

 _Is he…_ apologizing _for hurting me?_

The thought fascinated you to no end. You could only stare at his face, mostly hidden behind your arm as he continued to clean the wound. Your opposite hand slowly reached out to touch his shoulder. His rumbling chest got a little louder, but you felt his tongue disappear from your skin. You slowly moved to sit up, and moved back slightly.

He was still hovering close to you as you sat up as best you could. It was close enough that you would have blushed, had the Hunter been a normal human being. Except that he wasn’t. And your face stayed normal.

You watched him for moment before giving him a small awkward smile. That seemed to appease him, because he finally backed away fully, letting you have some space. As soon as he was out of your personal bubble, you turned your face down to look for your med-kit. Lucky for you, it was still firmly attached to your belt.

You pulled out a few supplies before setting about to wrap your arm. It was difficult to do it one handed, but if this zombie apocalypse had taught you many new and useful skills; such as tying a bandage with only one hand. Moving your right arm, you tested the bandages tightness and the knots durability. Once you were satisfied with your handiwork, you looked up to face the Hunter once again.

You blinked. Then you glanced around. The Hunter who had saved your twice, in a row no less, had simply vanished. You stood, your legs shaky from the adrenaline rush. Running into Tanks would do that to you. You came back to the railway tracks and glanced around.

Still no Hunter in sight.

You shook your head. It was a strange creature, no doubt. You couldn’t even hear his growling anymore. You sighed, taking in a deep breath. You couldn’t depend on a zombie, anyway. You had to get out of this city, no matter what.


	3. Revelation Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward in the story.

You breathed deeply as you finally reached street level. Fresh air. Well, sort of; there was always that lingering smell of death, but hey, who’s complaining when you compare it to the air down in the subway?

You glanced around, wary of the fact that you saw no common infected. There were plenty of dead bodies around, but you couldn’t tell if they were infected or just victims. You glanced around again, very aware of how quiet it was. The Hunter either has stopped following you, or he’s keeping quiet. Either way, it was unnerving.

You didn’t realize how much you had gotten used to the sound…You shook your head. What are you doing standing around here, wishing for a blasted zombie to follow you around!? Have you gone Mad?

Even if it has saved you twice, scared away other special infected, attacked and killed that Smoker, _and_ the fact that he hasn’t attacked and eaten you yet….

“. . . . .”

Okay, so the evidence that he didn’t want you dead was piling up, but still, you can’t let your guard down!

You shook your head again and started walking down the street. There were quickly spray-painted signs that told you a safe-house was ahead. That filled you with some relief. The trek through the subway had been mentally exhausting, what with almost dying twice and having a vegetarian Hunter following you around.

The pawn shop [1] at the end of the street had its lights on, and the mark of the safe house was painted brightly on the building. You could hardly wait to get inside, lock the door and give yourself a few hours sleep.

You made your way carefully down the street. You were hurrying, but you didn’t want to make any kind of noise. Just because you couldn’t see any infected, it didn’t mean that they weren’t nearby.

You were about halfway up the street when you heard the Tank’s angry roar.

You felt your stomach drop as you looked back. It was already charging from the other end of the street. You almost stumbled out of fear, but you caught your footing and tore off toward the safe house. You didn’t know if a safe-house door could withstand an Tank attack, but it was your only chance! You almost stumbled again when you saw a hunter at the door of the pawn shop.

For a split second, you thought it was a foreign Hunter, one that was about to pounce on you. He jumped toward you, but his jump was high and he flew right over your head. The Hunter let out an angry shriek as he landed on the Tank’s head.

The Tank stopped, roaring in frustration as he swung his arms wildly, trying to get the clinging body off of his head. The Hunter clawed at the Tank’s head, trying to get at his eyes, his mouth, anything that would distract the Tank from you.

You quickly shoved the pawn shop door open. You saw the blaring red door of the safe house and you dove inside. Your heart was pounding hard in your chest and you almost slammed the door close when you heard the Hunter let out another cry.

You froze. You were surprised at the new terror that gripped your stomach. The Hunter was still fighting the Tank! You swallowed hard before stepping back out of the Safe House door.

_Just to see if he’s okay…_

You covered your head as the Hunter came crashing through one of the big picture windows; his body hit the top of the glass counters and came to rest only a few feet from you. You stared at him with wide eyes for a few moments before the sound of the Tank brought you out of your shock.

You could see the Tank climbing through the smashed window. You didn’t know if the Hunter was still alive, but you couldn’t leave him out here! You quickly moved to him, grabbing his arms and yanking as hard as you could. The Tank’s roar was practically in your ear as you managed to pull the body into the safe room. You dropped the hunter’s arms and slammed your body against the safe room door.

You almost flew back as the Tank slammed his fists against the door. Your feet caught the ground again and you pushed the door closed, frantically locking it. There was a split moment of silence.

BOOM!

Your body was thrown back as the Tank slammed into the door again, leaving a heavy dent. You crawled backwards, your back hitting boxes as you watched the Tank continue to slam into the door. There wasn’t another dent made, but just seeing the whole wall shake violently caused terrified tears to escape your eyes. Your insides felt like they were trembling harder than the rest of your body as you watched the Tank’s assault.

You tried taking a deep breath. The door wasn’t giving in. The Tank may not be giving up, but the door seemed to want to hold. You took another deep breath. Your eyes slowly moved to your new safe-housemate. The Hunter didn’t stir, it didn’t breath, it didn’t give any indication of having survived the Tank’s attack.

You swallowed hard, moving slowly to crawl over to him. You ignored the Tank’s roars and banging as you sat over the Hunter. It was a stupid thing to do, dragging this thing in here. He was a zombie, after all.

You shook your head. You couldn’t even convince yourself of that anymore. Yes, he was dead and a zombie. Yes, he could kill you if he wanted.

_But he doesn’t want to…_

You were finally convinced. He didn’t want you to die. He was willing to battle a Tank, the biggest, baddest fucker on _any_ side of town, to keep you from harm. He was turned slightly on his side and you caught a glimpse of his back.

You winced. There was _a huge_ piece of glass sticking out near his shoulder blade…You moved so you could get a closer look. You gave a small grimace as you saw a little blood leaking out. You glanced at the Hunter, seeing that he still hasn’t moved. You took a couple steadying breathes before you gripped the glass in your hand.

What happened next, happened so fast, you ended up dizzy and terrified.

First the Hunter snarled. Then, from his position lying on his side, he somehow ended up over you, one clawed hand at your throat. The Hunter’s face was contorted in rage and had a predatory edge that made you shiver, but not from terror.

The Hunter quickly realized what he was doing and he backed off. As soon as he was off of you, you slowly sat up. The Hunter wasn’t looking at you. He was slightly faced away from you, sitting much like a dog would. It almost made you laugh, but you had no trouble keeping the sound locked away.

You still moved slowly. He may not want you dead, but that didn’t mean he still couldn’t do you harm in a moment of rage. The incident just now proved that to you. You felt your stomach quiver as you moved closer.

The Hunter’s head turned to you. He gave a warning growl, but didn’t move. You stopped and observed him. When you saw he wasn’t going to move, you continued to move closer, ignoring his next warning growl, which was louder.

You looked at him sternly as you got within arm’s reach, “You hush. I have to get that glass.”

His growl stopped and his head tilted to one side, seemingly confused. You sat on your knees next to him. He didn’t move away, but you saw all his muscles tense.

_How can he not feel that glass in his shoulder blade? I’d probably be incapacitated_

You placed a hand on his shoulder. An involuntary growl escaped his chest at your gentle touch. You stopped, waiting to see if he’d move. When he didn’t, you reached your other hand toward the glass. He went quiet and, if it was possible, he tensed even harder.

You felt a pang of empathy for him. So he _did_ feel it. And from what you could tell, it was causing him pain. You swallowed hard again in so many minutes and gripped the piece of glass firmly in your hand.

You didn’t count, there really wasn’t a point. You just pulled as hard as you could. The glass dug into your palm, but you didn’t let go until the glass was free from his back.

The Hunter shook his body, much more comfortable now that the pain from the glass was gone. He heard you’re hiss of pain and he turned his head, the scent of your blood reaching his nose. He moved a little closer, seeing you cradle your right hand.

You didn’t notice the Hunter again until his clawed hand gently took your wounded one; his hooded eyes studying the cut on your palm. You let him have his way with your hand. You still felt some reservations, in the back of your mind. You pushed the thoughts back even farther as his tongue began to lap up the blood, cleaning the wound.

Another shiver ran its course up your spine. You didn’t know why. You shrugged it off. You didn’t have time to worry about anything other than where you were going to move next. You didn’t feel safe staying in this room with a Tank-

You stopped.

You looked at the door. It was quiet. The Tank had gone. The Hunter noticed as well. His growls had ceased and he was staring hard at the door. You stood, taking a couple weary steps toward it.

You had never known Tank’s to give up so easily. They were relentless, even more so than the common infected. You got within a few feet of the door when you felt a clawed hand grab your ankle gently. You jumped slightly and glanced back, seeing the silent hunter holding you back.

You nodded slowly, realizing he didn’t want you to go near the door. You backed up, looking around the room for the first time. You felt your heart skip a beat as you saw the equivalent of a gold mine sitting in front of you.

An automatic shotgun, a second pistol and a mountain of ammo. You felt like crying in relief. You may not be able to kill a Tank all on your own, but you now have the right gun to slow him down! You hurried over to the table, picking up the shotgun and checking it over. Even though you knew nothing about guns, you could tell if one was working or not. A useful skill, even if it is one of the only ones. 

You refilled your ammo and stored extra bullets in your pockets. After doing this, you glanced back at the Hunter. He hadn’t moved a muscle. He was still staring at the door, tense and waiting. For what you didn’t know, and truthfully, you didn’t want to.

“Hey…” you called over to him. He moved slightly, perhaps acknowledging your voice, “Hey, there’s another door over here. We should go this way.”

You walked over to the door for emphasis. The Hunter glanced at your movement, but you couldn’t tell if he understood you or not. You motioned to the door and then turned the handle and opened it.

“This way,” you motioned with your hand.

The Hunter finally moved, following you out into an alleyway.

You sighed quietly. This was going to be a long, _long_ night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] In case you didn’t notice, you’re in the No Mercy campaign right now. You’re walking down the long street after you exit the subway. I’ll probably have you head to New Orleans or maybe to a completely new place, I haven’t decided yet lol


	4. The Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Others have arrived, will they trust you enough to allow Hunter to live?

You weren’t quite sure where you were going. You never _really ever_ knew where you were going. You guessed that was why you now found yourself underground again. This time in a sewer. 

You shivered in disgust. Nothing like the smell of rotting bodies and fecal matter to wake you up. Nope, nothing like it at all. At All.

You stopped yourself from sighing; that would make you breathe in more of the gross fumes. No, you wanted to keep that to a minimum, thank you very much.

Lucky for both you and your new Hunter friend, the Tank had never reappeared, leaving the both of you in the clear, for the most part. Of course, now that the Hunter was sticking to your side like glue, other special infected were reappearing again. Not five minutes ago did you kill a Boomer and two Smokers with the automatic shotgun you found. God, you loved shotguns. No accuracy required; just point and shoot.

“Do you hear something?” you glanced down at the Hunter, who stopped to glance around, “I think I’m starting to hear voices…”

You stood still, stopping the noise of the sloshing water around your ankles.

The noise didn’t repeat itself and you dropped your head slightly. Of course there weren’t any other voices. You hadn’t seen another living human being in days! What makes you think there are any more around?

The Hunter resumed his natural noises. You realized quickly in the short amount of time he’s been at your side that the constant noise the Hunter gave off wasn’t growling. It was just air passing along in its throat.

You won’t call it breathing, because it’s obvious that zombies don’t need to breathe in order to live. However, the Hunter was continuing the constant motion of sucking air into his dead lungs and pushing it back out. The constant motion in the Hunter’s throat caused what sounded like growling.

You shook your head as you turned a corner in the subway and headed for the service door you saw. Why were you bothering to explain this to yourself? It’s not as if it’s important.

You’re thought continued, unhindered: the “growling” the Hunter gave off was only a sound given off by breathing, which explained why the Hunter could suddenly become deathly quiet. He just stopped the motion at will, without fear of suffocating himself.

It was almost genius in the way it was set up, it was almost like it was planne-

Opening the door, you froze, your mind going blank as you saw four different guns pointed straight at your face and body. You were breathless for a moment, terror seizing your mind at the thought of being shot.

_By other survivors, ironically…_

That last rational thought caused your voice to work again, “W-WOAH! Don’t Shoot!”

The four survivors froze, their guns dropping slightly. This gave you a quick opportunity to glance at each of them.

Three men and a woman. Two Bad-asses, two normal people. Three hardened eyes and one set of gentle surprised eyes.

The woman spoke first, “Another survivor?”

The old man answered her, “She looks like she’s been through some tough shit.”

You answered almost automatically, “Well, being in a sewer, you run through some tough shit and some soft shit, it’s just the way it goes.”

There was a brief silence before the four survivors were chuckling and then laughing at your joke. You even let yourself get a strange smile and let a small laugh escape your throat. The fun ended almost immediately.

“Hunter!” The biker –man screamed, bringing his assault rifle up to aim at the low growling behind you.

The woman yelled, “Get Down!”

You panicked and threw yourself into the doorway, trying to block as much as you could with your slim figure.

“Wait!” you shouted, closing your eyes tightly, expecting bullets to fly, expecting pain to shoot up your body.

“Are you Insane!?” The guy in the tie screamed, “It’s a Hunter; move your ass!”

“Stop!” you tried again, putting your arms out as you felt the Hunter come up right behind you, growling loudly as he saw guns pointed in your direction.

The Hunter screamed in rage, now trying to pass you, to take out these new threats. The four survivors had no idea what to do. There you were, there the Hunter was. You were a survivor, it was a zombie. And yet, neither of you were portraying normal behavior.

The Hunter, while obviously showing aggression, wasn’t attacking you. And you, while seemingly capable of taking care of yourself, weren’t turning to shoot the thing. The woman glanced at her male teammates, dropping her gun slightly.

“What…” she didn’t even know how to ask at first, “What do we do…?”

The Old man seemed more than willing to keep his gun trained on the Hunter, trying to catch a bead on him between your arms and legs. The biker-man seemed to want to side with him, but couldn’t help but lower the barrel of his gun as well.

You turned and dropped to your knees, throwing your arms around the Hunters neck. You had to get him to stop trying to attack them, or they’d kill him! The presence of your arms made him stop trying to push forward.

You tried talking over his loud growling, but only he could hear you, “Please, you need to stop. They’ll hurt you, they’ll kill you! Please, they don’t want to hurt me, just calm down, please, stop…”

Your voice was desperate. It was almost pitiful. The Hunter stopped growling long enough to turn his head slightly to look at you. Seeing your pleading eyes, he felt an emotion ping in his body. He didn’t know what it was. His dead mind couldn’t even begin to understand it. The latex gloves were keeping him from being soaked by the water.

He brushed it off and quieted his threatening growl. He kept his eyes on the survivors, however, looking for merely one wrong move.

The man in the tie nearly dropped his gun when he saw you wrap your arms around the Hunter, “What The _hell_ , man!? What the hell has this world become?”

The other three were just as surprised, though the old man barely let it show.

“What Do you think you’re doing, missy?” The old man’s gruff voice echoed in the small room.

You turned your body slightly to look at him, your arms still around the Hunter’s neck, “You can’t shoot him. I can’t let you shoot him…”

“What, is he an old boyfriend, gone zombie?” The old man spat, “You think he remembers you?”

“N-no…” you said quietly, “I have no idea who he used to be…”

That seemed to surprise the old man. The woman spoke next.

“Why isn’t he attacking…?”

You glanced at the Hunter, who in turn glanced at you, “He…He seems protective of me….I know it sounds crazy…I realize that, even when I sit down to think about it, but…”

The biker-man spoke next, “More like, protective of his next meal.”

The man in the tie agreed, “Amen to that.”

“No, no, you don’t understand…” you looked at the ground, feeling an hopeless weight enter your chest. How could you ever explain it?

“Then make us,” the old man snapped, his gun still trained on the Hunter. The Hunter just gave a slight warning growl.

“He’s saved my life three times now, and even when he’s had the chance, he’s never tried to eat me,” you said this quickly, hoping the information wouldn’t sound as crazy in a faster speed.

Too bad it made it sound twice as crazy.

“It _what_?” the biker-man’s mouth hung open.

“Saved you…?” the woman looked just as surprised.

“How?” Even the old man seemed curious.

“T-the first time I saw him, he stopped a Smoker from attacking me…the second time, he hid me from a Tank and the third time he actually fought the Tank off while I escaped…” You swallowed hard, your fingers clutching at the fabric of the Hunter’s hoodie.

The four survivors looked at each other, confused and unsure of what to do. It didn’t seem possible that something like this could happen, and yet they were hearing it. _Seeing_ it, too; the very fact that you had your arms wrapped around the Hunter and he wasn’t trying to kill and eat you was such a strong piece of evidence, even the old man lowered the tip of his gun.

“Will he attack us…?” The man with the tie asked, watching the Hunter carefully as he let his gun drop to his side.

You bit your lip, unsure of the answer, “I…I don’t know…I haven’t run across any other survivors since he started following me…”

The old man didn’t like that answer, “I’ll shoot him now, unless you know for a fact he ain’t gunna jump me as soon as you let go.”

You bit your lip harder. You glanced behind you, seeing the sewer in all its glory and knowing you and the Hunter had no chance of getting to a safe hiding spot, should these survivors open fire.

The woman was the one who saved you both. You would never be able to thank her enough for it later.

While you and the other survivors weren’t looking, she put her gun on the ground, holding up her hands to the Hunter, who stared at her curiously. No one else noticed her until the hunter gave a short warning growl as she moved closer. You jumped and stared at her.

She didn’t stop when the Hunter growled. Even though she knew the Hunter could probably shake loose from your grasp to pounce her, the fact that he hadn’t yet gave her the courage to sit down in front of you, her knees almost touching yours.

“My name is Zoey,” She offered a small smile and offered you a hand.

You stared at it for a moment before giving your own small smile and reaching for her hand.

As you told her your name, the Hunter eyed Zoey carefully. Seeing you grasp hands with her, he noticed the gesture was familiar to him, but paid it no heed as he took a quick breath through his nose. The fear you had been giving off only moment before was fading. This new female, in her brightly colored jacket and pulled back dark hair, was calming you. He didn’t pretend to understand it; truthfully, he still wanted to rip each of these human’s throats out.

However, the scent of your fear had covered your natural scent; the scent that he loved, and craved. If this new human female could keep your scent hanging heavily near him, he’d tolerate her. And her buffoon companions.

Zoey introduced her friends, “Bill is an old Vietnam vet, Francis used to be in some bike-gang and Louis used to be a manager of an electronics store.”

You nodded to them, still keeping on hand clutched onto the Hunter’s hoodie.

“What about your ‘pet’? You name him?” Francis nodded to the Hunter.

The Hunter growled, almost as if he understood him. You glanced at the Hunter before shaking your head, “There really hasn’t been a need…He started following me in the shadows as soon as I entered the city; I hadn’t even seen him until a few hours ago when he saved me from that one Smoker in the subway.”

“The subway? You talking about the Red Line North[1]?” Louis asked; he and Francis had sat themselves near one of the light sources in the room.

You nodded, “Did you guys pass through there?”

Francis nodded, “We came out of the subway and stopped in that pawn shop on the way here.”

You gave a humorless laugh, “Guess I just followed you guys here on the same path…Didn’t think it was possible.”

“We’re heading to Mercy Hospital,” Bill was facing down an open hole in the wall that would lead to the exit of the sewers, “A chopper flew by not too long ago, when we were topside; told us he was going to pick us up at the ‘copter pad on the top of the hospital.”

You raised an eyebrow, “CEDA?”

Everyone shook they’re heads. 

“No clue,” Zoey answered, “We’re just trying to get out of the city; this place is dead.”

“No pun intended, I assume?” Louis chuckled.

“I hate puns,” Francis grumbled.

You laughed quietly. Just a few minutes spent with other humans, and suddenly you were laughing normally again. Funny how that works.

“Do you want to come with us?” Bill glanced away from his post to look at you.

You were a little surprised at the offer. Join up with a group of humans? Finally stop being alone, and on the verge of insanity? You almost said yes before you felt the Hunter shift next to you.

He had positioned himself to sit in his usual way, very much like a dog. His back was pressed closely to your side and he was ignoring the rest of the room as if it had insulted him. You stared at him for a moment. Even if this small group of survivors managed to agree to let him travel with them as well, there was no way the pilot of a helicopter was going to let him anywhere near his chopper.

And even being optimistic and saying the Pilot didn’t notice him slip on board, he was taking the group, presumably, to other survivors. Survivors who would not hesitate to shoot and kill the Hunter, after forcibly moving you out of the way. Or just shooting you as well. You bit your lip again, worrying it between your teeth.

You knew it was crazy to actually be _reconsidering_ something like this; a chance to rejoin humanity, in some small way at least. It was even crazier that you were doing it for a Hunter. Nobody spoke for a few minutes, none of them really knowing what to say.

Bill finally broke the silence, “A dead hunk of meat that moves is no reason to throw your chance of survival away.”

You looked at the ground, “Even though he’s the only reason I’m alive right now?”

The silence dawned again. There was nothing to say to that. No profound message for them to share with you. No great bearing of past experiences to try and convince you one way or another. There was only the silence. It wrapped around your indecision and choked it. You didn’t know which road to take anymore and there wasn’t a soul alive or dead that could help you make your choice.

That thought almost made you cry.

[2]

~*~

“I don’t care if it’s tame as a church mouse!” Bill was saying, “I am not going to walk in front of a Hunter. I’m not going to walk next to a Hunter. I’ll walk behind the bastard! If he pulls a fast one, I wanna be able to shoot the duct tape right offa him!”[3]

“We stayed in that cramped room for almost an hour and he didn’t do a damn thing to us!” Zoey hissed back at Bill.

She had quickly become your defender and fast friend since you met her just over an hour ago. You could only watch, feeling very much like you were causing problems for these survivors. A quick glance at Zoey’s face made you bite your tongue; even if you were causing problems, there was no way you were going to interrupt. That look scared you more than the image of a Tank running directly at you.

Even the Hunter didn’t dare to make any noise. He’d rather jump on top of another Tank. You reached over and pat his hand before grasping it gently. He glanced at you, and you offered him a quick smile before turning back to watch the cage-match between Zoey and Bill.

“Girl, Your nuts in the head!” Bill spat at her before sighing in resignation, “It’ll be on _your_ head if it attacks anyone of us. The both of you.”

Bill sent you your own little cold glance to make sure what he said hit home. You gave him a nod and everyone, all ready to leave now that they had rested and stocked up. Francis and Louis didn’t seem keen on travelling with a Hunter either, but one glance at Zoey’s face told them that she would win an argument with the both of them as well.

Zoey smiled at you as you stood off to one side, the Hunter crouched behind you, “Everything’s settled. You’re coming with us.”

You nodded slowly, “Sorry to be a bother…”

She shook her head, “You’re not. I’ve been needing a gal-pal for a while now.”

You still caught her glance at the Hunter, “If he gets riled up…”

You didn’t want to finish the sentence and Zoey didn’t let you, “Don’t worry. It’s completely weird to trust a Hunter. I mean, I’ve been shooting guys just like him for weeks now, and maybe it’s a little naïve to go on just your word alone, but if we humans can’t trust each other, then there’s not much hope left for humanity, right?”

You could hear college lingo in her speech. It felt so natural and yet so strange to hear something you yourself would probably have said only a few weeks ago for a college class…You felt yourself smile gratefully towards her.

“Thank you, Zoey.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she had a joking edge to her tone, “If he jumps me, I’m still gunna shoot his ass.”

You laughed lightly, following the rest of the group into the hole in the wall and through a few small tunnels back into the main sewer line. Even from here, you could see the ladder to the street.

“Thank god,” Louis said, “No more sewer air!”

“Yeah, but it’s still gunna reek,” Francis grumbled, “I hate terrible smells.”

You smiled at their conversation. It was so normal-sounding that you almost forgot about zombies and death altogether. But how could you? Reality was constantly sending reminders.

The sound of the horde was echoing from behind your group as you approached the ladder. Everyone glanced back and then looked at each other before scrambling up the ladder. Zoey went first and Bill went last. The Hunter easily jumped up to the top after you climbed out of the hole.

“Quick, find something to block the hole!” Louis and Francis were frantically searching the street in front of the hospital.

Bill crawled out of the hole, “Don’t bother, get into the hospital!”

Everyone made a mad dash. Everyone, except for the Hunter. He was still sitting near the hole, watching it like a hawk. You stopped halfway to the door.

“Come on!” you called back to him, turning to face the still-as-a-statue Hunter, “Don’t Just sit there, come _on_!”

Zoey cried your name from the Hospital doors, “Tank!”

You frantically looked around, feeling the ground rumble already. Where had the Tank come from!? You saw it coming from the end of the street, heading straight for the Hospital entrance. The Hunter had turned in his place, and let out his horrific scream, crouching low as the Tank entered his vision.

Before you could move, the Tank was between you and the Hospital door, heading for Zoey. You lifted your automatic shotgun and squeezed the trigger.

“Zoey! Get in the Safe House!” You cried as the Tank stopped and turned to look at you.

Your breath stopped in your chest and you started to stumble backwards, unloading your weapon into the Tank. The Tank roared, beating his chest before starting his fast gallop toward you. You fumbled a few precious shotgun rounds before finally getting a few into the chamber. You cocked the gun and fired again before the Tank was in striking distance.

You dove backwards, the swing barely missing you. The wind-shear from that near-miss blew you back a few more feet. You turned, nearly choking on your tongue as you watched the horde pour out of the man-hole in the street.

You, my friend, are about to be royally fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yes, same one in the game. I looked it up and everything, lol  
> [2] I almost ended it here. I really did. But I decided that even as cool as it would have been to end with such a dramatic line, I had more to tell in this chapter.  
> [3] I once used duct tape on my cousin to help her cosplay as a Hunter. Even will us alive and well, I couldn’t get it on right, so there is no way a Hunter got it on after it died. xD sorry, had to put my two cents here, just because I can ^^


	5. Heading Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sick over the weekend, so now that I'm well, I figured I should update this fic so I can get to the real deal: the sequel to this story.

The Tank was charging you; the horde had almost reached you. Out of the two, the Tank could kill you the easiest, but the Horde would trap you until the Tank could get to you. You were royally and utterly fucked.

You knew it was crazy, but there was only one chance of you surviving….You would have to charge the Tank. You swallowed hard, spit-second decision made. You turned toward the Tank, cocking the shotgun. If you got this wrong, he’d mangle you.

You started running toward him, aiming your shotgun at his face. One shot, that’s all you get. You squeezed the trigger and prayed.

The Tank roared as the shot peppered his face and shoulders. It closed its eyes and swung its arms up, trying to shake off the stinging pellets. You took your chance, while the Tank was distracted. You ducked beneath its arms and made a break for the Safe room.

The Other survivors were in the doorway, screaming your name. For a split second you felt relief. Too soon, it seemed.

“Behind you!” Zoey was shrieking.

“Duck, DUCK!” Francis was waving his arms.

You glanced back and let your legs give out from under you as a huge chunk of concrete flew toward you then over you. You watched it, almost in slow motion. It was heading for the safe room door.

The others seemed to notice this when you did. You screamed for them to move, but they were way ahead of you. The safe room door slammed closed, just as the concrete hit it and settled in front of the door.

The door was now blocked.

. . .

Fuck.

You saw a large shadow fall over you and your insides turned cold. You swallowed hard and slowly flipped onto your back. The Tank stood over you, his hulking mass moving slightly with his deep breathes. You couldn’t breathe, and it felt like time had stopped.

The Tank suddenly quivered. It was a strange sight to see, as big as he was. You watched him carefully, so aware of your own heartbeat, counting the beats as you realized these were going to be its last…

The Tank finally moved, rearing up, raising its arm, ready to slam them down on your frail and about-to-be-broken body. You closed your eyes. You held your breath.

Suddenly you heard the Hunter’s shriek and your eyes snapped open. The Tank roared, trying to reach the Hunter that was clawing his back. Time began to speed up and you pulled up your shotgun, unloading it into the Tanks chest and face. You didn’t release the trigger until all you heard were clicks.

You didn’t bother to reload as you yanked out both of your handguns and started unloading those into the Tank as well.

_Please, just die…Just Die!_

You unloaded both of your handguns into him. You kept pointing at him, hearing the clicks of the empty ammo-chamber. You didn’t stop, because the Tank was still roaring over you. How could it not be dead yet…? You felt like crying, for whatever reason; the Tank roared and you leaned up, roaring back at him, throwing both pistols at his face.

It was all going to hell. This Tank was still alive and he was going to kill you, and then your Hunter friend. And then he was going to go after the other Survivors. The Tank noticed you again as the pistols bounced off his head. The Tank couldn’t focus on you though, the Hunter was crawling up his back, its claws digging it and ripping flesh away.

The Tank’s legs gave out. You grabbed your shotgun and scrambled backwards, getting out of its way as it fell to the ground. The Hunter came into view, its claws still dug deep into the Tank’s back. It gave a feral growl and screamed. The Tank struggled to move, trying to get back up.

You quickly reloaded the shotgun, the Hunter continuing to claw at the Tank’s flesh. You cocked the shotgun and moved forward. You put the barrel point blank, next to the Tank’s head and unloaded. Its blood, skull and brain matter began splattering the gun, the ground and your legs. You felt like you were going to explode. You released and another roar at the Tank as it stopped moving.

When the gun was empty again, you couldn’t leave it alone, the adrenaline, the terror, everything that had happened these past weeks came flooding out. You started kicking the Tank’s dead body, screaming again, tears coming and falling.

The Hunter merely studied your actions. They were near animalistic in its emotion and ferocity. He felt his body prickle at your display and he moved off of the body. Using his body, he leaned against you, moving you away from the Tank’s body.

You tried to fight him off weakly, but the strength you got from your flooding emotions was fading. You felt normal and weak at the same time, and yet the tears still came. You stopped moving just a few feet from the Tank’s body and nearly collapsed; instead of hitting the ground, you leaned into the Hunter, who was now standing next to you, trying to get you to move.

You threw your arms round his middle, dropping the shotgun. You began to sob into the Hunter’s tattered and stained hoodie. Your breaths were shaky as you breathed in, and came out as loud sobs.

The Hunter froze, not knowing what to do, except stand firm in your arms. After a few moments, his clawed hand slowly moved up your arm, his fingers gently touching the side of your face. Your sobs slowed as you were brought back to the present. His gentle touch began to calm you, helping you grip back into the here and now.

You pulled away, wiping your face. You took a couple deep breaths and swallowed before you looked up at the Hunter. His lips were pressed into a concerned frown. You offered him a small smile.

He seemed satisfied with that; he pulled out of your arms and crouched again. You wiped your eyes again before glancing around. You were slightly surprised to see that the horde was all on the ground. The Tank must have bowled them all over after you dodged him…You shook your head. You didn’t have time to think about this. The horde was down and you weren’t going to complain.

You glanced at the hospital entrance and sighed, seeing the giant chunk of debris hadn’t moved an inch. Still, you walked toward it. Maybe you could talk to the others through a small hole or something…

As you neared, you could hear the four of them fighting amongst themselves, obviously trying to move the debris.

“Put your back into it!” Zoey screamed.

“My back?! What about _your_ back?!” Francis snapped at her.

“Will you all shut up and push?” Bill practically growled.

You called out, “Guys? Are you all alright?”

They stopped talking for a moment before Louis answered.

“Yeah, we’re all fine,” He said, “We can’t move this debris, though, you’re going to have to find another way in.”

You hesitated. Biting your lip, you glanced back at the Hunter, who was standing guard at the door. Studying him for a moment, you made up your mind; even though the doubts were already starting to pull at your mind.

“I…I’ll find another way out of the city,” you finally said.

Instead of going silent again, the others started talking at the same time. You were a little surprised, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying until Zoey spoke over them.

“Are you serious? You won’t come with us?” She sounded more than a little sad about this.

“I can’t.” You said this firmly.

Zoey didn’t want to hear you say that, “We can move the debris! Or there has to be another way in!”

You didn’t say anything until her voice quieted, “Zoey, I can’t go with you guys…I can’t leave him alone…”

You looked at the Hunter as you spoke. The portion of your brain that was dedicated to logic and reasoning was screaming at you, telling you about how Hunters kill quickly, how you were being foolish, you should have shot the damned thing back when you first saw him with the Smoker.

But every other part of you was fighting this logic. Fighting and winning. Even if he was dead, even if he was a monster, even if he could—probably would—kill you, you couldn’t leave him. You _wanted_ to stay by his side…

You swallowed hard as the silence grew on both sides of the blocked door, “I hope we’ll see each other again…all of you were just what I needed; a breath of humanity in this stinking dead reality. Please take care of yourselves.”

You heard them give a few calls, trying to stop you or say goodbye, but you couldn’t understand them anymore. The Hunter’s growl was drowning their voices out. You moved to stand next to him. The whole of the street and the small drop off area was stretched before your sight. There was no movement. Everything was dead.

In this quietness, you could hear something in the air. A mournful wailing was being carried to your ears through the still air. It wrapped around you like a promise of death, making your chest tighten and making you chew on your bottom lip.

“A witch,” you said quietly, “Just perfect…”

You glanced down at the Hunter, whose face was still mostly blocked by his hood. His mouth, just visible by you, was pulled back into a snarl as the growl left his throat, promising a fight, promising death.

Your stomach flipped, and made you feel a little sick. You faced the street again and started forward, toward the end of the street.

It was time to escape this hell hole.


	6. The Lullaby That Takes You Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m introducing a new special infected in this chapter; my friend Alex created it and its details. (Truthfully, the idea of this special infected is already out there, but he has a pretty unique take on it lol)
> 
> Please enjoy!

“Don’t look at me like that,” you glared at the Hunter lightly, “Just help me get down.”

You had been right about there being a witch. She just so happened to place herself right in the doorway of a safe house [1]. Well, you didn’t feel like walking who knows how long until the next safe house, and you were utterly exhausted. You hadn’t slept in almost 30 hours at that point and with the idea that a safe place to sleep was just past the crying zombie…

Well, needless to say, you startled her. And she chased your terrified ass up a tree. Yeah, that’s right. She chased you up a tree. The Hunter, obviously smarter than you when it came to Witches, didn’t move anywhere close to the Witch until after you startled her. After she was chasing you down the street, he was jumping after you both, trying to keep up with a screaming and terrified you and a screeching and pissed off Witch.

Once you were in the tree and the Witch was stopped beneath you, trying to find a way up, the Hunter pounced on her, managing to kill her quickly without getting any damage from her overly long claws.

Now he was sitting next to her body, staring up at you. You glared down again. He didn’t have to be a prick about it.

“Fine, I’ll find my own way down….” You grumbled, trying to find some decent footing as you attempted to climb down.

You managed to get most of the way down without incident, but of course, your exhaustion and fatigue were starting to settle in again, now that your adrenaline rush from the Witch was dying down. Your foot missed its purchase and you ended up hanging there for a few seconds. Your mind raced, trying to think if whether you were close enough to the ground to survive the fall or not.

You didn’t get much more thought into it, because your hands slipped and you fell toward the ground. You gave a short scream before you heard the Hunter give his loud cry. You felt his body hit yours and suddenly you both were on the ground, you on top of him, your head against his chest and your hands on his shoulders.

You panted, trying to slow your racing heart. You had never been that freaked out before. Sure, facing down a Tank and being chased by a Witch were really scary, but falling was the ultimate in terms of fear factor. You never knew if you were going to survive the fall unscathed. At least with the Tank and Witch you could have some hope by planning out movements and using your own strength to fight back or run.

But when you’re falling, and there’s nothing but air between you and probably injury or death…that was the where the real adrenaline junkies got off.

You slowly got off the Hunter, sitting next to him as he sat up. You offered him a small smile of thanks. He just shook himself off and crouched next to you, waiting to see what you would do next.

“Glad I entertain you,” you mumbled, standing up and brushing yourself off, “C’mon, I’m tired and that safe house looked like it had sleeping bags in it.”

~*~

Time was such a strange thing, now that it didn’t matter anymore. You still wore a watch, but had really no need for it. All you needed to know in this new reality was whether it was dark outside or not. Even days of the week failed to have any importance, or the day of the month.

That’s why, when you woke up, you had no idea how long you had been out. A couple hours? A whole day? Several days? It didn’t really matter to you. It’s not like you had anywhere pressing to be at the moment. Or ever again, really; you were just living your existence, one moment at a time, moving from place to place. That kind of existence was somewhat reassuring, actually. You don’t have to stress about a meeting at work, no worries about office politics, and definitely no worries about money.

Though, this kind of wandering lifestyle had its problems as well: never knowing if you’re going to live to see another day, or even the next hour. Never having a place to call ‘home’ or to go, and never having the comfort of knowing your family was okay. Constantly worrying where your next meal was coming from…

Speaking of meals, you woke up hungry.

You don’t know if it was your hunger pang that woke you, but it was definitely what kept you awake. At first you did nothing but lay there, fatigue clouding your mind and sleep still just beneath your eyelids. As you lay on your side, you noticed that your back was exceptionally warm….and the sleeping bag was really tight around you…didn’t you go to bed with it hanging loosely off your body…?

Something shifted against your back and you tensed, sleep clearing from your head immediately. What was that? You didn’t want to move to look, because of the sleepy fear that gripped your heart, but the idea of not looking, of not knowing was so much scarier.

You swallowed hard, holding your breath as you slowly turned your head, trying to see what had crawled into the sleeping bag with you…You almost screamed when you saw a Hunter. You bit your lip to stifle the sound, terrified to wake it…

Wait…Wasn’t he…?

You breathed a small sigh of relief. This was definitely the Hunter that had been following you for weeks upon weeks. How could you have almost forgotten? You became aware of just how tangled the two of you were in the sleeping bag and felt your stomach tingle.

His arms were wrapped around you, securing your body to his. Both of your legs were crissed and crossed in such a way that you didn’t know where your body ended and his began. You tried to move slightly, but the Hunter had an iron grip, even in his sleep.

You sighed lightly. What a strange creature he was! You couldn’t understand him, or his motives. There was still the deep dark part of you that was telling you that you were an idiot for trusting him. A cold-blooded, dead _zombie_ **Hunter** , and here you were, intimately entangled with him as if he were your lover!

You glared at the gun that was lying next to your head. You didn’t like that last word. Not about another Human and definitely not about a Hunter. How many times had you been in this position? And how many times had they worked out to your benefit? You were completely oh-fer-one million and now you hadn’t seen another human (let alone a male human) since the beginning of this whole apocalypse thing!

Well, that’s not true; just last night you had met Zoey and her friends. They had been like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with poison gas.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your stomach giving a loud roar. The sound was loud enough that the Hunter stirred in his sleep, his constant growl returning as he woke up. His hands, near your hips, flexed and you gasped at the feeling of his claws.

The sound that came out of your mouth made the Hunter stop to stare at your back and the back of your head. He leaned forward slightly and you heard him take a deep breath, smelling your hair. You felt a little embarrassed, considering that you hadn’t had a proper bath or shower in weeks, but the Hunter obviously liked what he smelled, because his constant growl lowered into something close to a purr.

You felt the vibrations of his chest against your back and you shivered. You tried to make your mind go blank, refusing to let your mind wander into the gutter. Even if his hands _were_ beginning to play with the skin above the hem of your pants. 

You tried to move to get out of the sleeping bag, but the Hunter’s hands gripped your tightly again. You bit your lip, not knowing what to do. What was he doing?

You tried again to move away, feeling ever so uncomfortable and just a little turned on. You bit your lip a little harder. Turned on? Really? You hated to admit it, it was a matter of pride at this point. Turned on, by a dead thing? How low can you go?

You ignored the limbo song that suddenly popped into your mind and tried one more time to get away, determined to win out over your body. The Hunter growled and before you knew what happened, you were suddenly underneath the said Hunter, your bodies pressed together because of the sleeping bag.

You couldn’t even begin to describe the things your body was feeling. The Hunter was on top of you; his clawed hands had found your wrists and were holding them tightly next to your head. You had never had a man be so forceful and dominant. All the men you dated had always been jackasses, making you do all the work; and if you didn’t, well, they knew they had women lined up to take them.

You felt a shiver go up your spine and your stomach was flying in your abdomen. Your base instinct was to struggle and struggle hard, but the Hunter immediately stuck his face close to your neck. You froze, feeling both excitement and terror at having his mouth so close to your neck…

The moment ended. The Hunter suddenly pulled back, moving out of the sleeping bag and over to the other side of the room. You watched him, suddenly realizing that your heart and breathing were erratic. You cursed yourself mentally. Your body had reacted to him as if he were a possible candidate as a lover or something! You closed your eyes, feeling very humiliated by the idea.

You slowly got up; not looking at the Hunter at first. He was obviously smarter than the average Hunter; he’d proven that ten times over…did that mean he could tell how you felt? How your body said one thing and your mind said another? You sighed. Maybe you were giving him too much credit.

You got up, picking up your shotgun. You needed to clear your head of this nonsense. What needed to happen right now was you needed to find food. Your stomach rumbled at the thought.

You sighed again, suddenly feeling more tired than when you fell asleep. You stretched one more time, hoping it would put some life back in your muscles. It gave a little, but you couldn’t stop the fatigue from clouding your mind.

You gathered what supplies you could from the room and set back out on your journey to no where.

~*~

Luck seemed to be on your side. Not long after leaving the safe house, you found a vending machine that hadn’t been broken into yet. You had no idea if the food inside was any good, but with all the preservatives packed inside those colorful packaging, you were willing to bet ‘yes’.

You had to use the butt of your shotgun a couple times before you could break the vending machine plastic front, but it eventually gave way and you quickly grabbed as much as you could carry (which, thanks to a couple grocery bags that floated by, was most of it).

You ate a few of the snacks and then tied both bags to a belt loop before you continued on.

Since you left the other survivors at the hospital, you really had no idea which way to go. You’ve been following the streets toward the freeway that leads out of town, but you weren’t sure that was the best route to take.

You sighed as you thought back to how you entered the city. It was basically a sewer you had entered via an exit pipe outside of town. You weren’t exactly sure what you had been looking for, entering the city, but you found that it hadn’t gotten you anywhere. You glanced at the Hunter. Well, it got you a bodyguard in a strange round-about way.

Having never been to this city before, you could only hope that you were going the right direction. Lucky for you, there were enough signs around to point you toward the freeway that was currently your destination.

The street was completely deserted; not even the normal zombies were hanging around. That fact alone spooked you. Add to that fact that the Hunter at your side was quiet and seemed to be listening for something, and you felt the first vines of fear start to grip your stomach.

And that’s when you heard it: the most beautiful voice that has ever entered your ears. You couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from…it was as if the very ground beneath you and the walls of the nearby buildings were singing to you. You looked around, your feet stopping.

“Do you hear that…?” you asked your guardian. Your voice sounded far-away and distant to you, “It sounds….like a lullaby…”

You turned your face down to look at the Hunter, only he wasn’t there. You looked around, mildly surprised. You should have been panicking, being out in the middle of the street all by yourself.

Except, you weren’t in the middle of the street anymore. You were in the woods. You were in _your_ woods. The trees were as familiar to you as the face you saw in the mirror. You could never get lost in these backwoods, no matter the hour of the day. You were home.

“Mama? Dad?” you don’t know why you were calling for them; you had watched them die…hadn’t you?

No, they were still alive, you could feel it.

Your feet started to move, first slow and sluggish, and then growing in speed and urgency. You had to get home. You had to see if your parents were still alive. You had to see their faces again. You needed to hear your mother’s singing as she baked something, and your father cursing at the local sports scores, because of whatever bet he’d made the night before.

These things were like breathing at this point. You felt that if you couldn’t have those things, you were going to suffocate and die.

You slowed, but only because you heard a strange and familiar noise. It sounded like a scream and a growl combined into one…like a…

The name of the creature that had been so devoted to you for what seemed like years was on the tip of your tongue. It made you remember the city, and the other survivors. And for a split second, you saw the darkness and the cold and dirty street you were running down.

Suddenly, you heard your older sister scream and the forest returned full-force. You had to get to your family!

The trees started to thin as you came closer to your lake-side home. How long had it been since you’d seen it? You drew closer to the large log cabin and almost started to cry. It was really home.

You dropped the shotgun you had been holding, _Why were you even holding it in the first place?_ , and ran through the front door, which looked like it had been broken in and was covered in blood, _Its happening again! Why is it happening again!?_. Something had gotten inside the house, something terrible, something wrong and evil and a beast that shouldn’t exist in this world…

You ran past the living room, already knowing that you weren’t going to find anything until you got into the kitchen. You stopped at the kitchen door and screamed your sister’s name.

There, across the room, was your mother’s body, slashed and destroyed. Next to it was your sister’s body, equally destroyed. You let out a strangled sob and backed away, heading toward your father’s hunting den, already knowing what you would see. _Why am I seeing this again? Who would torture me like this!?_

Your father was there, sitting in his chair. You were looking at the back of his head from here and for one hope-filled moment, you thought he had survived this time. That he was alive and well.

Then you saw the acid burns on the wood floor in front of him and your heart sank. You moved slowly, walking around the edge of the room, afraid to get any closer to your father.

“D-Daddy…?” Your voice sounded far-away again.

You moved even more slowly as you saw your father’s feet, clad only in his evening slippers, burned and disfigured by the acid. Your lip started to tremble and you finally moved to the front of the chair, looking at your father. You felt bile rise in your throat, but you couldn’t turn away.

His face was the worst: it was as if it had been _melted_ and his skull was showing through in many places. The rest of his body looked better, but only because his clothes hadn’t completely dissolved off of his body. Though, they did look like they had fused to his skin.

That last thought was all it took to make you lose it completely. You turned and emptied your stomach onto the wood floor. You could practically hear your mother saying, _’Look at that mess! It’ll take_ weeks _for that stain to come out and longer for the smell!’_

That ghostly echo made you sob. A part of you wanted to continue, to run from the house and start your life on the run from zombies and monsters, the way you had so many weeks ago. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stop the tears and walk away again.

All you wanted to do was lay down and let the tears flow. Had you ever properly cried for your family? Had you ever stopped to mourn them? Of course not; you had been too busy trying to survive the new horrors of the world. You hadn’t had a moment’s peace to sit and think back to this day. This moment, when you realized you were all alone in this dead world.

You jumped slightly, suddenly hearing a voice. You looked and your legs suddenly gave out.

Your sister was standing in the doorway, looking at you. She said your name again, taking a shaky and listing step toward you. You tried to scoot away, your eyes wide with fear. You felt the utter dread and hopelessness in your gut and it was weighing you down. You sobbed again, trying to find your voice and instead only finding more tears.

“Its okay, baby sister,” half of her face was gone and you could see the grinning skull beneath, stained with blood, “I forgive you for leaving us to die…”

You were confused for a moment, before the guilt began to grow in your chest. You _had_ left them behind. You had seen their mangled bodies and ran away. And you have never once looked back, to mourn or to wonder. You simply left the broken home behind.

“E-everyone was dead!” you said it weakly, “I had to get away from the other zombies!”

Your sister looked around, making a show of it, “I don’t see anything in here, baby sister…”

You looked around as well, “I-I….”

Had there been anything in the house when you left your dead family behind? Or had you just run away from the cold bodies of the people you called family? Was it their faces and echoing voices that you had been trying to escape that cold evening?

“Just admit you were wrong to leave us, baby sister,” Your sister moved closer, her intestines trailing behind her. You felt the need to retch again, but your throat was tightly closed, “Admit you were wrong and promise that you’ll stay with us.”

“U-us?” You suddenly looked around and saw your mother standing in the doorway. You felt your mouth go dry and looked at your father again. His unseeing face had turned to look at you and his body moved slowly to stand.

You backed into the wall behind you, tears of fear and guilt leaking from your eyes. Your sister moved to kneel in between your legs, her facing coming closer to yours.

“Come join us, baby sister, its not so bad, once you get used to being dead.” The half of her lips that were still there pulled up into a freakish smile.

That’s what finally tore the wall down in your throat and in your mind and you finally screamed, “HUNTER! WHERE ARE YOU!?”


	7. The Lullaby Ends

“HUNTER! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

The scream made the log cabin dissolve around you. You were suddenly in a darkened room, light filtering in through the cracks in the boarded up windows. It was the back room of a store, by the looks of it.

You were still backed against a wall, but instead of your sister kneeling in-between your legs, _Sister? I don’t have a sister…_ it was a new and horrid creature.

It was a female, the drooping breasts and long, tangled hair gave that away. She was obviously a zombie: her skin was hanging off of her and it was a pasty yellowing color, the veins in her skin a bright blue underneath her skin. But all of this was not the clue that she was no common infected.

There was a growth of some kind, just at the base of her throat. There was a hole at the top, which seemed to be constantly sucking in air. The front of the growth looked like a bubbling mass of puss and infection, but from this close, you realized it was her voice box. That realization made you gag.

The air that had been sucked into her voice-box-growth finally started to be expelled. You cringed, realizing that the beautiful lullaby you heard before, it was coming from this _thing_. You felt tears appear again and you moaned as you pressed yourself backwards, away from this creature.

On the edges of your vision, you could see the cabin, trying to take over your vision and your mind again.

_This creature…_ you were making another horrible realization, _Its giving me hallucinations…_

It was trying to soothe you into death. You moaned again, blinking faster, trying to keep the visual lie at bay. But the lullaby…it was poking and pounding at your brain, making you feel exhausted and ready to just give in.

You sobbed out, “Hunter, where are you…?”

You closed your eyes tightly and opened them again. The cabin was lightly overlaying the dark room, and it was almost impossible for your mind to comprehend. You couldn’t understand, and couldn’t focus. The woman in front of you took the form of your ‘sister’ again.

_NO! I don’t_ have _a sister!_

She became the zombie again, a snarl appearing on her face. It was almost as if she knew that she was losing control of your hallucination. Her dead eyes moved across your body, her mouth opening and revealing the sharp, pointed teeth that had taken the place of her human teeth. She made no sounds, except for the lullaby that was still pounding in your ears.

She moved her face closer to yours, her eyes locking with yours. That when you heard the voice of your ‘sister’. Except now you knew, it was this _thing’s_ voice.

“Why do you fight so hard? Don’t you _want_ to be with your family?” her voice was soft and crooning. Her hand moved to your face and you shivered at the cold touch of this monster. It felt like the terrible touch of the Grim Reaper himself, telling you that he was about to take you.

You moaned again, tears falling quickly, “No…No…I can’t leave, I don’t want to die!”

The voice was still soft, still inviting you into the cold embrace of death, “But its your time to go, baby sister.”

You wanted to scream again, instead your hands reacted on their own. Your hands moved to her shoulders and shoved hard. The movement surprised her and she fell back. She was lighter than a toy doll and looked at you as you stood up, your back still pressed tightly against the wall.

“I DON’T WANNA DIE! I DON’T WANNA DIE!” you repeated this over and over, your hands moving to cover your eyes, trying to stem the flow of terrified tears.

You stumbled sideways along the wall, your hands moving to your ears as the zombie’s lullaby, as the _Siren’s Song_ grew louder. You couldn’t let her get to you, you had to live!

The zombie’s voice, not coming from her mouth, but from within the song itself, screeched at you, “Why must you live!? Why won’t you lay down and become my meal!?”

“For…For…” your mind was reaching, trying to pull itself together. The only thing you could cling to at this moment was your companion. The creature that had followed you and saved your life so many times; the creature whose cold touch didn’t make you shiver, but left a warm tingle moving through your body, “For him…I don’t wanna leave him…”

She wasn’t listening for your answer, instead, her song changed into a faster melody. The hallucination left your mind and you could finally think straight. You looked at her, seeing her stand against the opposite wall, the song blaring throughout the room and, you were sure, throughout the surrounding area. You began to tremble, the melody leaving you feeling weak and scared. What was she doing now?

Your question was answered almost immediately as the doors, the one leading out to the alleyway behind the shop and the one leading into the shop itself, burst open, and dozens of common infected spilled into the room.

You gave a short scream, backing away from the horde that was slowly gathering around you. You saw no escape this time. You pressed yourself into a corner, looking around frantically for some kind of weapon: a crowbar, a broom…even a damned piece of wood!

That’s when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the undead bump slightly into the shelves at your left. The shelves wobbled dangerously, giving you a desperate idea. You grabbed one of the metal bars holding it up and waited. You had only one shot, and you had to take as many of them down as possible.

You swallowed hard as the dead creatures moved closer to you, creeping forward until their cold fingers were barely brushing your clothes….

_NOW_

You pulled the shelves as hard as you could manage. They wobbled and for one heart-stopping moment, you thought they wouldn’t fall. That they were attached to the wall, or that you didn’t have the strength to pull them.

Relief flooded you when you saw it lose its equilibrium and smashed a third of the crowd; the rest were knocked onto the floor, in a domino effect. You saw your chance and bolted, climbing and stumbling toward the door that lead to the alleyway. You didn’t pay any mind to the frustrated melody pouring from the Siren [1], your mind only focusing on getting away. On getting free.

The Siren’s song changed suddenly, and it made you stumble. You stopped in the door and glanced back at the woman. You could have sworn on a bible that you saw an evil and terrible intelligence in her eyes. The kind that suggested that she wasn’t really dead, that she had only taken on an unearthly form and taken inhuman powers from Beelzebub himself. It was the way her mouth curved up, in a half-sneer, half-triumphant look that was mirrored in her cold, lifeless eyes. You shivered and turned to the alleyway, fully intent on running until your legs gave out.

Except, now your way was blocked; by two Smokers, a Spitter, three Jockeys, and…a hunter.

_Your_ Hunter.

He didn’t look like he even recognized you anymore. Or maybe you were fooling yourself; maybe he fully recognized you, and this had been part of his coy tactics the whole time. He was a worker bee for the singing Queen Bee behind you.

No, even from here, you could see that each of the special infected in front of you were in their own daze that went beyond their dead stares. The Siren had taken each of them under her spell and now they were her muscle, seeing as she didn’t have any. She was going to take Hunter from you…

That was why he didn’t come to your aide. Because he was in trouble of his own. In a spell that was slowing ripping him away from you…and what else could you call it? ‘Spell’ was the perfect word.

You felt tears welling up again, feeling the whole situation starting to come down on your head. She had all the pieces, and she was about to call you in checkmate. She…

She. Her. The woman behind you. The _dead_ woman behind you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a crowbar, lying on the ground, just outside the doorway. Slowly, you moved to sit on the ground, your hand moving to the crowbar. From where she was, there was no way she could see what you were doing, other than sitting down to supposedly die.

“Y-You win,” your voice was shaky, but you could hear your own determination, “I have nothing left that I can do…”

It was your turn to save the Hunter.

You felt rather than saw the Siren move to stand behind you. You didn’t move to strike, not yet. You had to get her in one blow, otherwise it would all be for naught. Her hands moved to your shoulders and she leaned forward. You could feel her cold breath on the back of your neck.

Had it really been less than an hour since you felt the Hunter breath on the same spot? His breath had given you chills, the kind that went straight to your lower abdomen and coiled. Her breath gave chills too, but these chills went down your back and made you shiver in fear and dread.

Before you could react, you felt a sudden pain on your shoulder. You let out a cry of pain and realized, to your horror, that she had sunk her teeth into you. Why had you let your mind wander? At such a time!

You jerked away, surprising her. You swung around, raising the crowbar above your head as you did so. You heard the joint cry of all the special infected behind you, maybe a noise of resentment, for daring to strike their master, maybe a cry of encouragement, asking for freedom from the Siren’s spell…

You let out your own scream, using every ounce of strength to bring the crowbar down onto the Siren’s head. She tried to move, but too late. You could feel her skull giving way as you struck her the first time. You closed your mouth tightly, feeling sick at that fact, but you raised the crowbar again and struck another blow, and then another and another.

Somehow, you ended up on top of her body, which was twitching in its second death. You didn’t care though; you just kept striking, your mind forced to go blank, or go insane. All you could cling to was the idea that you had to keep going. You had to keep hitting her, or she’d get back up and take _everything_ from you.

You heard noises around you, but you didn’t register them as anything. You saw movement out of the corner of your eyes, but your focus remained on the Siren below you, her head no longer resembling anything except perhaps a bowl of porridge, dyed red.

Your shoulder suddenly tweaked, making you let out a cry as you dropped the crowbar and let your arm fall to your side. The muscles burned and your elbow and wrist felt numb; but it was your shoulder that hurt the worst. You had either pulled a muscle, or completely dislocated it. You couldn’t tell, and you also couldn’t move your arm.

Your breath was coming out in deep pants that made your chest heave, and your blood pounded through your veins, making it hard to regain any sort of sane thoughts in your head. You had to consciously pull your mind back from the brink, and look around. You became aware of the flood of tears that was still pouring down your face, like a pair of sinks that had been left running and were now overflowing.

You gave a small whimper as you saw the rest of the horde, which were now standing, facing you. It occurred to you that they had probably been standing there for a few minutes, like a crowd that gathers around a street fight, and yet that didn’t seem to matter as you leaned backwards, away from the horde that was just standing. You practically tumbled backwards, watching for movement and praying that death wasn’t still hanging over your head.

Your uninjured shoulder hit the doorway and you lost your balance. You fell on your side and rolled onto your stomach, now facing out into the alleyway. You saw the special infected crowd and moaned in fear and uncertainty. You let yourself look up at them and saw that they, too were just standing and staring.

You swallowed hard and moved even slower as you pushed yourself up to sit on your knees. Your bottom lip trembled as your eyes came to rest on the Hunter. He just stared at you, not moving to your side or moving to see if you were injured, like he had always done before.

It was like their will to move, their minds, or whatever they had, had just… _stopped_. You felt tears fall again in a fresh wave and tried to move closer.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

You gave a short scream, turning to look toward the voice; if you would have had a gun, you probably would have shot it without thinking.

A woman was the source of the voice. She was standing at the end of the alleyway, a good 50 feet or so away. What struck you from this far away was her no-longer-brilliantly white lab coat. Some kind of doctor…?

She moved carefully, as though she were stepping through a field of broken glass while she was barefoot. When she was only a few yards away, she spoke again.

“You know, you’re lucky to be alive,” She was studying the special infected from her position, “That Siren has been terrorizing this area for almost a week and anybody who gets too close falls under her hallucinations and dies.”

“Wh-who…?” you had to clear your throat, but before you could ask properly, the woman answered.

“Dr. Harmonie J. Doreen-Langton,” she moved again, her eyes never leaving the undead beings standing in the alleyway, “But I am known by my middle name, Jo.”

She had such a proper way of speaking it took you a moment to process what she was saying. It was almost like she should have had an English accent. Except that there was no accent to speak of, or from what you could hear.

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, until you realized you hadn’t given her your own name. You blushed slightly, realizing just how long it had been since you had had a proper conversation with someone. You gave her your name, and felt self-conscience as Jo looked you up and down.

“Well, you look like you’ve been through hell and back,” she suddenly pulled out a pistol, which alarmed you slightly. Jo saw this alarm and gave you a reassuring answer, “Oh, this isn’t for you, dear.”

A small amount of relief flooded you, until you realized the obvious: the gun was meant for the zombies and the special infected.

Before you could react, Jo had already killed both Smokers and was turning her gun on the Spitter. You felt a sense of _wrong_ as she killed them. They never moved or reacted, even as the gun was placed at their temples.

You finally moved when you saw that she was turning her attention to the Hunter.

You choked out, “N-No!” and lunged as best you could to put yourself between her gun and his body. Her eyes widened and she pulled the gun away. The shot echoed in your ears, and a wave of dizziness flooded you at your sudden movement.

“What the hell do you think you are doing!? I almost shot your ass!” Even when cursing, she sounded so proper.

“P-please, don’t shoot him!” you were trying to focus, but your shoulder was throbbing and your head was beginning to spin, “I-I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s different! He’s been like a guard over my life and hasn’t tried to hurt me!”

Your vision was beginning to blur, so you didn’t see Jo’s eyes widen. You didn’t know if she believed you, but you were desperate for her to at least hold off. You just had to focus, you needed to focus…

Except, the world was getting dark and it was starting to spin, faster and faster.

“Don’t…just let me…” you were trying to think straight, but everything was beginning to blur together, “I have to save him this time…I can’t…let go…I don’t wanna let go of him.”

You felt your world tipping and the ground of the alley was cold against your body. You don’t know how you ended up laying down, but you were fading fast.

Before you were completely lost to the darkness, you heard one final gunshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yes, Siren is the official name that was given for this special infected, and yes, it’s not a new idea. But I do believe this version of the Siren is pretty unique, and the good doctor will explain more about her in the next chapter.


	8. The Good Doctor

The Hunter pressed against you, his body no longer cold. His hands moved against your skin, tracing your curves and coming to rest on your stomach.

“You aren’t going to leave, are you?” Your voice was faraway. You couldn’t see him, but you knew his touch; you could feel his presence.

You didn’t get an answer, but his arms wrapped around your body. The skin of his chest pressed tightly against your bare back and his mouth gently kissed the back of your neck.

Suddenly, a deep voice that you knew belonged to him, spoke, “You smell like the wind…and you remind me of what it’s like to fly.”

To fly? You tried asking, but your voice was no longer working. Suddenly his arms disappeared and you could no longer feel his presence.

_Where did you go!?_ You heard the echo of your heart screaming.

A gunshot rang from somewhere.

You sat up, fully awake and breathing hard as you screamed, “DON’T!”

You turned your head, taking in your surroundings. You were in a safe room, no telling where in the city. The safe room itself looked like it had been converted into a make-shift laboratory of some kind, with glass vials and machines that looked like something straight out of sci-fi movie.

“Finally awake?” that familiar proper way of speaking…that woman.

The good doctor herself was sitting on a table, her legs folded in front of her. Her lab coat had been removed, and the clothes beneath looked closer to that of a biker chick than a doctor. The dark tank top even revealed a few tattoos on her upper arms and one that seemed to stretch across her chest.

You couldn’t contain the question, “Where’s the Hunter!? I heard a gunshot, before I blacked out!”

Jo didn’t answer at first; she only studied you, as if you were some pawn in her newest experiment. And that’s the kind of doctor she was; you hadn’t given it any thought when she first introduced herself as a doctor, but looking at the way the room was set up, what other kind of doctor could she be? She was a scientist, doing who knows what out in this apocalyptic world.

“Answer me, please!” you looked around, hoping to see him huddled in a corner, or even behind you; but he wasn’t in sight, and your heart began to drop.

As if she could read you like a book, she answered, “You may trust your little pet, but I refuse to risk my own life.”

Your heart felt like it was about to shatter. Had she really…?

She didn’t confirm or deny, even though it was obvious that she knew you wanted to know. Instead she spoke again.

“Do you know anything about Sirens?”

You were taken aback. That was a complete change of subject, and it startled you into giving an answer.

“W-well, no…I didn’t even know that a special infected like that even existed…”

She took your answer and you swore that, even though she wasn’t holding a notebook, she was taking notes about you.

“They’re a sort of project that I’ve assigned myself to,” She motioned to a few piles of papers that were around the room.

“So, you study Sirens…?” your eyes travelled over the equipment and papers for a brief few moments before returning to her.

“In so many words, yes,” her eyes left your form and you were glad for it; you no longer felt like you were being studied, “It’s hard to believe that I followed the same path as that colleague of mine…”

She sighed, as though she didn’t like that idea. You couldn’t help but ask.

“Your colleague was studying Sirens…?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Jo’s face, but it brought no life to her eyes, “No…its mostly a long story, but I suppose it would be easy to summarize…”

You glanced around again, not sure what to expect from this woman.

“When this outbreak first hit the news, every science and medical-research team went to work, trying to figure out what the hell was happening to the world,” Jo looked at the ceiling, her eyes glazing over, “I was on a team of 30, led by a female doctor whose name is quite famous in the inner circles of virology. She’s young, bright and her future was all but set in stone. The thing I remember most about her is that she has a weak stomach and when the zombies began to decay, she had to lock herself away from them, or risk being sick to her stomach all the time.” [1]

You listened with growing interest. People had actually tried to study this zombie epidemic?

“I don’t know how many of them are still alive,” Jo sighed, her eyes never leaving the ceiling, “When I left, only 12 people were left alive…well, left out of the ranks of the undead, I should say.”

That thought seemed amusing to her and another ghost smile appeared before it faded. As she continued, her voice grew low, “Our original goal was to find a cure. We thought we were so smart; that we could take a disease created by Satan himself and could so easily make a cure for it. But everything turned on its head when the special infected started to appear…”

“Turned on its head?” you tilted your head a little, studying her posture and her tone, “Your group stopped looking for a cure?”

She seemed to get agitated at your question, “ _I_ never stopped looking, but that damned woman--!”

It was then that you realized something about Jo: her tone sounded proper, but it wasn’t proper speech at all. You were actually hearing cold detachment; Jo had stopped caring about everything. She had taken her heart and soul and locked them deep within herself, where they could no longer be harmed. You had thought you were hearing proper speech, but it was merely hopelessness, mixed into utter despair and placed in a shell that had turned its back on anything emotional.

In that moment of realization, you pitied her.

She continued, unaware of what your thoughts and conclusions were, “That woman…she became obsessed with the special infected, but there was one type above the rest that she focused on, that she gave herself to completely…”

You could hear the tension in her voice and from somewhere at the back of your mind, you knew what she was going to say next, but still, you opened your mouth and asked, “Which special infected did she focus on…?”

Jo looked at you suddenly, her eyes reflecting that cold detachment that you now recognized in her voice, “The Hunter.”

You both sat in silence for a little while, as her words sank into the silence.

“As you can imagine, it upset more than a few people,” Jo continued on, as if the silence had never occurred, her eyes returning to the ceiling, “Everyone wanted a cure, or at least some sort of way to fight the infection, should it enter their body. But she was determined. She convinced herself that she could manipulate the virus, change it to her whims. I always told her that it was going to bite her in the ass.”

You swallowed slightly, “Did it…?”

Jo shrugged slightly, “I left before she started any real experiments.”

“But before…” your voice was quieter as your brain began to move a little faster, “you said you followed in her footsteps…” Before she could answer, the truth hit you, “You became obsessed with Sirens...”

Jo nodded, her eyes beginning to study your form again, “That’s right. I had a run in with my first Siren almost immediately after I left.”

“How did you escape…?” You tilted your head, curious. And you had a right to be; you had escaped by a narrow margin, one that was much too narrow for your comfort.

“Well…” her eyes turned down before turning to the door you hadn’t really noticed before. It seemed to be a closet of some kind, “I’ll call it luck, but only because I lack any sort of scientific data to provide for you.”

You looked at the closet door and then back at her. You raised an eyebrow at her. She looked at you and then changed the subject abruptly again:

“The Hunter that you didn’t want me to kill,” she ignored your questions that came flooding out as you were reminded of your companion, “What did you mean he was different?”

Your flood of questions stopped and you looked at the ground. You weren’t ashamed, but it was hard to find the right words.

“He’s…different,” you shrugged slightly, using the same word while you searched for new ones.

“Yes, you’ve said that,” Jo’s voice was patient, though her face wasn’t.

You took a deep breath, deciding that you could only wing it and see where that led, “He’s like a guardian angel, I guess…except that he looks nothing like an angel. When he first started to follow me, I thought that every second was going to be my last.”

Jo nodded in understanding and motioned for you to continue.

“Then, he suddenly appeared before me, and rescued me three times in the first two hours that I knew him face to face, first from a smoker and twice more from a Tank,” You continued to speak, even though you could see Jo’s face sink into deep thought, “I protected him from a small group of survivors, though, looking back, I have no idea how I managed to convince them to spare his life…”

You shrugged, “He’s been following me in the shadows ever since I entered this city, a little over a week ago, but just about a day ago, he started to travel by my side and now…”

You felt your throat tighten, not knowing if you were going to be able to keep yourself from crying. If Jo had really…had really…

You couldn’t even think the word.

Jo was studying you again, though your gaze had fallen to your lap. She felt something; an emotion that was locked tightly in her chest. She didn’t like it that this girl’s distress was causing holes to appear in her emotional walls.

“Don’t blather and blubber,” Jo motioned to the closet door, “Your little pet is in there, resting or recovering or whatever it is that Hunter’s do when they’re alone.”

Your eyes widened and without realizing it, you were already halfway towards the door. Jo just watched, a bitter and sad feeling managing to burn in her chest, even behind the wall she had built.

You threw the door open and stopped. There the Hunter was, sitting with his back to the door. It crossed your mind to wonder why he hadn’t made a sound or made an attempt at the door, but a quick glance told you that it was made of metal, and the dented scratches on this side were proof enough of his try for freedom.

His hooded-head turned slightly, but his nose had already told him who opened the door. He had wanted so badly to get through the door to get to you, to check to see if you were alright, and truthfully, he still wanted to put his body next to yours; to feel your skin under his claws, but he had to force himself to be calm, or he knew he would hurt you.

You, on the other hand, had no intention of holding back. You practically threw yourself at him, your knees hitting the ground just behind him. Your arms flew around his middle and your face was buried into the fabric of his hoodie.

You were beside yourself with relief. The Siren, Jo, the safe room, all of it melted away into background static. The both of you were alive, and for this moment, that was all that you cared to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Does this sound familiar to anyone? Hmmm? Well, if you’ve read my other Hunter fanfic, then your answer is a ‘Yes’. I’m talking about the reader-character in that fic. Don’t know why or how this connection was made, but the timelines are a little off (seeing as this fic is set two weeks after infection and the other is a month after infection…hmm…I’ll make it work, somehow)


	9. Death of Detatchment

“Are you two quite finished?” Jo was standing in the doorway, watching the two of you closely.

“A-ah, sorry…” you hesitantly let Hunter go, “I just….when I heard that gunshot, I thought…”

“That you’d never see him ever again?” Jo finished your sentence, “Touching, but you should be more worried about yourself.”

You shook your head, “He’s never tried to kill me!”

“I’m not talking about the damned hunter,” She said simply, moving toward you. You tensed a little, not knowing what she was planning.

You hissed as he poked a bandage on your shoulder.

“That Siren bit you,” Jo said simply, “You are officially infected, my dear girl.”

You froze and stared at her. Infected? As in, you would now become one of them? You looked down, hardly able to comprehend what she had just told you.

The hunter turned to watch you and this new woman. He could smell your distress, but he wasn’t entirely sure it was caused by this woman…he moved his face close to yours, resting his forehead on your temple.

His touch brought you out of your thoughts and you leaned into him. You mind was racing in circles, between him, life, death, Jo, the Siren…the simple fact of that matter was…

You didn’t want to die.

Your lip trembled but you forced yourself not to cry. Instead you looked up at Jo.

“W…will I turn into a Siren….?”

Jo shook her head, “There’s no way of telling _what_ you’ll turn into.”

You blinked slowly up at her, “So…I could turn into anything…?”

Jo shrugged, “The only thing that I can say for a fact about this virus is that its unpredictable: you could turn into a Siren, a Hunter, a Tank, or even just a common infected. Then again, you could be immune, and not turn into anything at all.”

She smiled strangely suddenly, “Or, you could turn into something completely different and new.”

You shivered as she spoke. So, your life was hanging on a razor’s edge, and you could do nothing about it. You forced yourself to focus on something else, by looking away.

That’s when you noticed the other body in the room.

You jumped, eyes widening, “Wh-What…?”

It was a male, and it was obviously dead. Jo’s voice died in her throat as you stared at the man, laying on a sleeping bag, blood soaked through it, but dried and obviously old.

You continued to stare and that’s when you noticed the lumpy, pus-soaked mess at the base of the man’s throat. A siren. The body was a siren.

You looked at Jo, unable to process why the siren’s body would be there.

She just stared at the body, not wanting to say anything, but unable to stop herself from saying, “He was an ex-boyfriend; I met him a few years ago, right after I graduated from college.”

“But what…what happened…?” you were quiet.

Again, Jo didn’t want to answer, but the holes you had poked in her defenses were starting to grow, “After I left the lab, trying to get away from that woman and her stupid obsession with Hunters….He found me, but he was already infected. It was by luck alone that I didn’t shoot him as soon as he told me…but…maybe luck and old feelings that never died…”

You stared at her. She, who you had realized was completely closed off and detached…could this by why? She was pushing her emotions back because of what happened with this guy…?

You tried to say something, anything, “Jo, I…I’m…”

She interrupted you, “He got so sick in the days that followed; it was all I could do to keep us both alive.

“I mean, what else could I do? He was special to me, someone who had always told me that I was always going to be special to him. That’s when I saw that growth…the one at the base of his neck and I had no idea what to do…I knew I was going to lose him all over again.

“And…I did…” she finally slowed down, her eyes never leaving the man, “I have a gun, and he used it on himself…because he knew that as soon as he changed, he would come after me and I wouldn’t fight it.”

You just stared at her; is that why she was detached? Because she loved someone who would leave her in such a….final way?

You took a deep breath and looked at the Hunter. He was already dead, technically, so he wouldn’t leave you like that. He was always going to be there, wasn’t he?

Jo looked at you, “I started to study sirens, because I can’t except that he had to die like that…there had to be a way that we could make it work and now that I see you…”

You pressed your lips together. You, and the Hunter; you both were ‘making it work’ as she put it. You were making all the hurt she pushed away surface, just on the fact that you and the hunter are together, in whatever way she saw it.

“J-Jo, I’m sorry about your friend, but the Hunter and me…we-we’re not…”

“Don’t lie!” Jo’s eyes were suddenly alight with a fire, her voice was thick with emotion and you suddenly wished she would go back to being detached and emotionless, “You nearly fall into despair because you thought I killed him and you’re trying to tell me he isn’t important to you? That you don’t _love_ him!? Don’t Lie!”

You stopped. The way she said that made you look at the Hunter, without even meaning to. His face was turned toward Jo, a growl starting low in his chest. You slowly reached out and touched his shoulder. He didn’t stop growling, but his head tilted toward you slightly, not entirely ready to give up his defense of you.

“Jo…I…”

“You both should leave,” Jo’s voice was quiet again as she slowly moved toward the dead body, “I’m sorry I got so emotional, I just….I can no longer deny it…he didn’t have to die, but I did nothing to stop him…”

You didn’t know what to say to her, “Jo…”

“Just leave, please,” her voice was back to the proper-sounding detachment.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to leave her here, to wallow in her grief, but what could you really do? You didn’t know her very well and…what was there left to say?

You slowly stood and started for the door, glancing back only once.

Jo was sitting next to the body, her hand gently touching his face and brushing his hair away from his forehead. Her back was facing you, but you could tell that her face was back to being blank, and emotionless.

The Hunter followed you, and the crisp night air only brought your memories back to Jo, as you and your companion walked down the street, farther and farther away. Once you reached the end of the street, you heard something that chilled your soul to the bone.

A single gunshot, echoing along the walls of the buildings.


	10. Drawing Ever Near

After you heard the gunshot, you hadn’t bothered to turn around. You already knew what you would find in that two-room safe-house. That thought left a cold shiver running down your spine.

You’d never see Jo again.

It had been a week since you’d left Jo; you had managed to find the freeway and you were now heading south. Well, the both of you were.

Hunter (as you couldn’t think of anything else, and besides that, you had known men named Hunter before) hadn’t been as physical as the time in the sleeping bag, but he was more than ready to brush your leg with his hand, or lean his forehead against yours, when he sensed your were weary and in need of rest.

The past week had been relatively quiet, all things considered. Hordes, special infected, and fatigue had become a norm before you and Hunter had joined forces; there was no reason that should stop, just because you were now together.

And they didn’t stop.

You were almost out of bullets for the handgun you found a few days ago. You’d have to find a better weapon soon, or you were helpless. It didn’t help that your right shoulder was out of commission because of that Siren’s bite. At the beginning, you couldn’t even move your arm without lightning pain shooting from your fingertips all the way down your back.

Now you could at least function with minimal pain, but you’d kill for some pain pills right about now. The freeway was pretty empty. The cars were scarce in between cities, which, truthfully, sucked.

Yes, that’s right. It sucked.

There was no cover. There wasn’t anything to raid. And now, you were following the interstate through some god-forsaken forest, a dull ache throbbing in your shoulder, no food, and having to keep a constant look over your shoulder, because you and Hunter were sitting ducks out on the road, with no cars to provide shelter/cover/relative safety.

You sighed. It was no use complaining about it now.

A green sign appeared on the edge of your sight, but it would be at least another 20 minutes before you could even guess what it said. Apparently, the interstate you were on was heading straight for New Orleans; not that it much mattered to you. You couldn’t rejoin humanity again, even if you found relative safety. It wasn’t just Hunter, anymore (even though you had already chosen him over humans already).

You were infected now.

You could already feel it working in you. Yesterday, your vision had suddenly blurred, and when Hunter had tried to show some concern, you had actually _growled_ at him. He was keeping a little distance today, because of it. You felt bad about it, but how do you comfort a hunter?

_Maybe I could offer him a dead squirrel or something…._

You stopped and blinked. It was a funny thought, which explained the smile crossing your face, but for some reason, the idea left a strange settling emotion in your stomach.

Hunter was, without a doubt, a zombie. You were, for now, a human. Zombies eat humans. Logic did the rest: Hunter was supposed to be eating you. So, why had he never tried? You had always been worried about it, until you ran into Zoey and the others; but you’d never stopped to think why he never _tried_ to eat you.

You looked down at your companion, who had stopped to watch you. You wish you could understand him, talk with him, even. What sort of things would he tell you? You smiled at him and shook your head.

With your luck, all he’ll want to say is “ _Braaaiiiinnnssss…._ ”

~*~

Hunter was asleep. It was really a strange sight for you. He usually only ever slept after you fell asleep and was awake before you got up, but, there he was, curled up on top of the sleeping bags of the gas station floor, asleep.

You could tell, because he almost seemed dead. It had scared you the first time you had woken up to find him still and lifeless. You had started crying loudly, which woke him up in a rage, thinking something was attacking you. Needless to say, it had been an experience that left him without the desire to sleep for a few days, and as far as you could tell, he hadn’t.

But today…maybe it was that last horde attack. There had been at least 30 of them, and halfway through, you had run out of bullets. It had been a scary situation.

You felt a shiver as you felt that deep-rooted fear come back up from your belly. For the entire fight for your life, you hadn’t seen Hunter once. He had jumped into the crowd and was lost to you. At first, you hadn’t thought anything of it; he had done this tactic before, and the common infected were more interested in you then in defending themselves from an attack from a prowling hunter.

Except, the fight had taken a turn for the worst when you ran out of ammo: you literally had to turn and run, for fear that they would horde you and rip you limb from limb. The infection in your blood obviously still wasn’t strong enough to repel the common infected from trying to maul you.

You had run, lungs burning up a hill, toward a dense forested area, hoping to find a broken tree branch, or something to fight back. Looking back down the hill, you didn’t see Hunter at all; you didn’t even hear his piercing cry.

Your heart had almost stopped at the fear he had been trampled or that the common infected had finally turned on him.

You choked back a cry of frustration, instead looking on the ground for some kind of weapon. A thick branch provided the perfect substitute for your bullet-less gun. It wasn’t long, just about the size of a child’s baseball bat, but it was thick. Thick enough that when you swung full force at the nearest zombie, its head caved and nearly came off altogether.

However, with each swing, each cracked skull, every ache and shooting pain from your shoulder, you did not see Hunter. And that terrified you.

When the crowd was finally cut down, you stumbled back down the hill, feeling sick with worry as well as with the knowledge that the squelching slipperiness beneath your feet was the remains of humanity. You shuddered at the thought.

“H-Hunter…?” you called tentatively. He may have found a special infected or two and had been distracted by that.

You glanced back up the hill. There were only 11 or so bodies that you had disposed of with the tree branch, meaning that somewhere along the way, the rest had fallen. Hunter was definitely responsible for this, but where were those bodies? Where was he?

You called again, “Hunter? Where are you?”

You slowly made your way back to the freeway. The asphalt was hard under your feet, versus the soft dirt of the forest. This was where you had been split up, in this small collection of cars and semi-trucks.

You tried to remember which car you were standing next to when the horde had appeared. It had actually been an overturned semi, hadn’t it? You looked down the freeway, back toward that city and saw the semi a little ways down. You immediately started for it. Hunter was probably there. And if he wasn’t…

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from thinking of it.

You reached the edge of the truck easily, but a sound made you stop. It was a bone-popping snap kind of sound. Then a juicy ripping. You shuddered, but didn’t stop your feet from leading you around the side of the truck, allowing the mass of gore to appear in front of you.

You were surprised how well your stomach took the sight. There had to be more than a dozen bodies, all strewn throughout the cars and on the median. More than a couple had a shelled out, empty look to them, like all the good stuff had already been stripped from their bodies. That thought almost did you in, but your eyes continued to travel to the source of the noise.

Hunter sat, hunched over a body, there was some kind of fleshy inside hanging from his mouth, but he seemed unconcerned by it as his claws ripped another hunk of flesh from the corpse and shoved it in his mouth. It was almost comical to see how his cheeks puffed out with a full bite. You could almost imagine him eating a burger or pizza.

That’s what did you in.

You turned away, back around the side of the truck, where he couldn’t see you. For some reason, you didn’t want him watching you puke. Call it an insane little vanity, maybe even a crazy quirk, but you emptied your stomach behind the truck, and when you could breathe and control yourself, you brought yourself back out into the open, relieved to see that Hunter had finished his ‘meal’.

You watched his sleeping form now. You had never seen Hunter eat before. You knew what he was supposed to eat; hell, if you were to go into the gas station bathroom and look in the mirror, it might as well say ‘menu’ on the top. It just never occurred to you that he was probably restraining himself, maybe even testing his self control when he was near you.

He really did look dead. You smiled to yourself, and quietly moved closer to him. He would wake up and soon as you touched him, you knew, but you couldn’t stop yourself from trying.

His back was facing you. You blinked and you noticed, really for the first conscious time, the long rip where his shoulder was. That was-

Your memory was flooded with your first encounter with Hunter. It felt so long ago, years even, but it had really only been less than two weeks. Less, really.

You slowly reached forward and traced the hole, touching cold skin beneath as you did. Hunter didn’t move, but you didn’t notice. You were lost to the first encounter, in that subway; the smoker, the tank, the other survivors….and Hunter.

Had it really been then that you first felt it? It hadn’t been strong, and even when it was, you had fought it ruthlessly, still thinking that humanity would return. You knew now that it wouldn’t. This wasn’t just a state-wide problem. It was national, maybe, even now it was finishes off the rest of the world. Hunter was your anchor of sanity, as strange as it sounds.

You’re smile faltered; your shoulder suddenly ached something terrible and you groaned as your left hand came up to clutch at it. You bowed your body, not realizing that your forehead came to rest on Hunter’s side. You trembled from the pain and moaned in pain. It was coursing through your body and you felt the fever start to warm your skin.

You fought for control over your shaking. For some reason the only thought coursing in your head was, ‘ _I-I don’t want to wake Hunter…stop…stop shaking!_ ’ You tried to take deep breathes, but it felt like there was a hole in your throat and it was releasing the air you were trying to get into your lungs.

Suddenly, you felt a clawed hand on your arm, tugging you up. You let yourself be tugged and slowly came face to face with Hunter. You still could only see his nose and mouth clearly, but it was a comfort to see his pale skin and lips pulled into a small frown. You tried to offer him a smile, but a sudden wave of pain left you clenching your eyes closed and resting your head on his chest.

Hunter turned his body to face you. You didn’t move for a long time, but Hunter didn’t seem to be panicking. Could he tell, even now that you were dying? Was he waiting for it, so you both could finally be on the same level? Truthfully, you were terrified of death. You didn’t want to face that darkness, that forever tunnel of uncertainty.

The pain finally started to die down, and you noticed that your breaths were coming in short bursts as your lungs greedily filled with oxygen. Your heart hammered in your chest, knowing better than you that its beats were numbered and it was still trying to fill its quota.

You moved your head to look at Hunters face. He was looking down at you, concern and maybe curiosity filtering across his features. A sudden raging curiosity of your own suddenly filled you and you slowly reached up.

Hunter didn’t seem all that concerned, so he allowed you to reach for his face. Except that you reached past his face. You gently took the hood in your hands and pushed it back, out of his eyes and off his head. He didn’t move to stop you, but you felt a rumble in his chest. He didn’t like having his hood off, obviously.

You ignored the rumbling for now. You were too taken with his eyes. You had expected them to be filmy, gross or even gone altogether, but you were surprised; Hunter’s eyes looked almost human, save for the vacant and glazed look of death in them. They were blue, and deep. Even his hair, hidden by the hood, had been saved most of the gore and horror that you both had faced. It was ruffled and messy, and darker than the night that threatened the daylight outside.

“Hunter…you’ve been hiding,” you mumbled this, really it was nonsense. You didn’t expect him to understand, or even react.

You decided that hell could come down on you. You had to know…

You moved slowly, more to make sure Hunter wasn’t going to run or get spooked, like he usually did when you got this close to him. He didn’t have breath to mingle with yours as you drew closer, but you still felt your cheeks darken as you moved. There was no one to judge you and Hunter would never say a word…not that he could, but there was still just something about kissed a guy that left butterflies in your stomach.

Your lips touched his, almost timidly at first. His lips were cool and firm, still unexpected to you. Hunter didn’t seem to know what you were doing, but it was still a kiss that left your stomach twisted.

Or maybe your mind was what was twisted. You pulled back to see Hunter’s reaction. His eyes searched your face, before he pressed his forehead against yours. You smiled. That had to be his way of saying “do what you will”. You almost laughed, but you just closed your eyes and moved closer to him, feeling sleep overtaking your mind.


	11. Meeting Up and Going Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m warning you guys now, there are a few time skips in this part of the story. It might get a little rough, so I’ll try to be as clear as possible about time lapses without actually labeling each section of the story, cause I think it looks…unprofessional? At least in my own work lol.

A month. A full month, or so. Basically, it’s been a long time since you first met Hunter. And what a time it’s been. 

You had found a safe room near the river just a few miles New Orleans. Lucky for you, there was no mirror in this safe room, like in a couple of the others. You already knew you were paler, and looking ready for death. You just haven’t been ready to let go yet.

You weren’t bed-ridden, but it was a near thing most days. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you were still moving from safe room to safe room. It wasn’t like before, where you were trying to find humanity. Now you were simply traveling, blowing with the wind like some dying maple leaf that had no destination or place to be.

How long since the infection first started….? The timeline was getting all mixed up in your head. The infection had started a week before you entered Mercy City [1], and a week later, you had met Hunter face to face. The next few days blurred together in your mind; it was a haze of Zoey, Bill, Louis and Francis, and then there was Jo and the Siren. Or had the siren come first?

You shook your head and continued on: a week ago, you had crossed the Louisiana state line (or so a green sign had informed you) and found a working car, which took you all the way down to the freeway about 20 miles north of New Orleans. Ever since then, you’d been milling your way south, not quite sure if you wanted to actually get to New Orleans or if you were going to head east or west and head along the coast.

You leaned against the wall of the safe room, glancing around at the blood and ink stained walls. Messages, calling for loved ones and warnings for others had been hastily scrawled along the walls, most faded, some looking newer.

You suddenly felt like you were going to suffocate in this room and picked up your things, heading for the door.

You still carried a gun, but only used it on the occasional special infected that ran across you and felt up to a fight. As you got sicker and sicker, the normal zombies had started ignoring you, as if you were slowly being accepted into their exclusive club or something.

You shivered and realized how true that thought was. You _were_ about to join their exclusive club; either by dying and staying dead or by dying and waking up with new life.

You tried suppressing those thoughts. You didn’t like to think about the end. Too many questions with unknown answers. Like, would you still be aware? Would you still be you, only dead? Or would your soul move on, leaving the rest of you to wander and destroy? Would Hunter stay with you, or would he suddenly become a mortal enemy, like every other special infected he ran across?

Hunter was suddenly walking beside you on all fours, in his usual fashion. That last question was probably the one that bothered you the most. Hunter was important to you, and you didn’t want to become his enemy, whether you were aware or not.

You glanced back at the safe house and finally made a decision: you’d go to New Orleans, if only so you could find a place that you could fortify and die in peace.

~*~

You leaned against a wall in an alleyway. New Orleans was bigger than you had expected, but most of it had been blown up by whatever military/CEDA group had been here last. It looked war-ravaged, though an abandoned version. There were no fires to add dramatic effect, or bodies (save a few infected that had either dropped dead or been killed since the bombs) to give the place the dead feeling. It was just empty, like a ghost town without the ghosts.

You slid partially down the wall, trying to keep yourself upright. Hunter moved closer to you, his clawed hand moving to touch your calf, a sign of worry and comfort.

You pushed yourself to stand and started walking again. You just needed a place to rest, that was all…

You actually tripped and stumbled to the ground, your breathing coming in harsh pants and a cold sweat breaking over your brow. You were sick, you already knew that, but now it had settled into the next stage. You were closer than ever to your death, and you really had no idea how you had lasted this long. Sheer force of will only explained so much.

You managed to sit up, but you didn’t think you had the strength to stand just yet. The wall next to you was sturdy as you leaned on it, and the quiet of the city proved to be calming.

That’s when you heard the voice of a woman.

“Oh man, I think we’re lost, 10.”

You heard a rumbled growl in response.

Your eyes snapped open and your hand immediately moved to Hunter’s shoulder, to keep him next to you. Another survivor, another chance that you might lose Hunter.

“Don’t leave, please,” you said to Hunter, weakly gripping his hoody, but you could feel the tension of his muscles.

“Please, don’t,” you couldn’t put anymore force into your voice, the weak feeling clouding your mind.

Suddenly the owner of the voice rounded the corner, and so did another hunter. Everything froze for a few moments; long enough for you to study the two.

She was beautiful, with long hair that was pulled messily back into a bun and bright, intelligent eyes that were wide with surprise. The hunter she was with was wearing a hoodie that used to be a dark maroon color, but was blotched dark red and black along with the khaki’s he was wearing. The foreign hunter had moved in front of the woman, his growl deep and threatening, obviously trying to scare Hunter away.

Hunter moved, but instead of running, he moved in front of you, crouching low and letting out a fierce growl of his own.

“10, no!” The woman yelled, but her hunter was oblivious to her words.

“Hunter…” You murmured, but could only lean heavily into the wall.

Suddenly both hunters jumped at each other and the fight started. You tried to rouse yourself from your exhausted and sick stupor, but it was like trying to see through a fog or hear through glass. The other woman obviously was in a healthier condition as she started screaming.

“10! Stop!” She took a step forward, not stupid enough to actually step in between the two fighting predators, but getting close enough to force the fight closer to you.

You couldn’t quite focus, but you managed to your feet, feeling the fighting hunters coming closer to you as they interlocked in battle. You felt like you couldn’t breathe; like the oxygen coming in was vanishing before it could get into your lungs. Still, even with the blurred vision, the gasping for breath and the weakness you felt, you couldn’t just let the fight continue. Hunter was going to get hurt and you couldn’t live--wouldn’t live if that happened….

You barely steadied yourself on your feet when you lunged at the fight, catching one of the hunters around the waist, praying it was Hunter. There were a couple cries and you were being jerked around with the fight; suddenly, a searing pain was in one of your arms, but you didn’t let go. You closed your eyes against the pain, whimpering as the blood started to flow over your arm.

You could hear the woman shrieking, but you were losing yourself in the moment; you felt the daze coming over your thoughts, stopping everything except instinct. You felt a growl exit your throat and you reared backward, yanking the hunter you held away from the fight.

The woman heard your growl and shivered, but when you pulled Hunter back, it gave her the opportunity she needed to throw herself at 10, holding him from continuing the fight.

Both hunters continued to growl at the other, both convinced that the other was a threat to the other’s companion. You groaned and pleaded quietly.

“Hunter, please,” you gasped in great breathes, “I need you, please don’t leave…”

Hunter paused in his defense, still wary of the new hunter, but stayed rooted on the spot, refusing to leave your side. The new woman was transfixed by the control you seemed to have over the hunter, but she couldn’t focus on it, because 10 was refusing to back down.

“10, calm down!” She hissed, “They aren’t threats!”

10 calmed a little, but his mouth was open in obvious threat. She grabbed his hood and yanked it down so he couldn’t see the other hunter, only her.

“You calm down, or you’ll be outta luck in the sex department for a _long_ time!” She glared lightly up at 10, daring him to test her.

10’s growl didn’t stop, but it lowered considerably. He was obviously contemplating it.

You leaned heavily into Hunter, your body exhausted from the effort of trying to break up the fight. You closed your eyes tightly and forced your mind to focus on Hunter. He was probably hurt by the fight and you had to keep your head.

You slowly opened your eyes and saw the teal-ish blue of Hunter’s blood-stained hoodie. It was good to know you had grabbed the right hunter, but more so, it was a comfort just to have him in your arms. You pulled back slowly, still gripping him tightly in case he wanted to try for round two of their fight (which you knew you had no strength to stop, if it came to that). He had a few scratches that were new and a bad looking bite on his shoulder, dangerously close to his neck. You sighed and saw that Hunter was paying no mind to his injuries.

You could see a small flap of meat hanging from his mouth and glanced at the other hunter. You were surprised to see the woman hanging off of the hunter the way you were able to hang onto Hunter, but you pushed the thought aside for the moment. The other hunter had a bite in his arm, obviously from Hunter.

The other woman was just staring at you. Her face told you about her disbelief and even from where you were sitting you could see her mind at work. In that way, she reminded you of Jo. You swallowed hard before leaning into Hunter again, trying to raise your voice enough so she could hear you.

“Sorry about Hunter,” you said, “He’s quick to jump to conclusions.”

The other woman nodded, “Yeah, 10 is the same way….I’m sorry as well.”

You tried to move away from Hunter, to get a better look at the woman, but you were feeling weaker than before.

She spoke again, telling you her name, “I’m a scientist, so most people just call me ‘Professor’ or something, and I would really like to talk to you about the hunter you’re obviously traveling with.”

Her name stirred a memory, but you couldn’t quite place it, so instead you replied with your own name, “I’ll be glad to have another human I can talk to, if we can keep our ‘friends’ from killing each other…”

She smiled, “Oh, I have mine under wraps.”

You suddenly smiled at the wording, “More duct tape?”

She blinked before laughing. You smiled as well, before letting out a laugh of your own. Hunter almost immediately relaxed under your touch, hearing you’re relaxed laugh. Your hands slowly slipped down his chest and your eyes got heavier. The woman’s eyes widened and called your name. You heard her and waved her off. The weakness and dizziness would pass. But the fact that you were dying…that would never pass, not until you breathed your last breath.

~*~

The fire burned brightly in the make-shift fire pit that Professor had created. Its warmth was a comfort to you, and while you leaned back against a wall, Hunter curled up near you; whether in defense or if he was worried about you was unclear.

You, on the other hand, were studying 10, the hunter that Professor traveled with. He was obviously smarter than the average hunter, and was very different from Hunter, even in small ways. While Hunter seemed to have emotions, they didn’t affect his instincts or his thoughts—10, on the other hand, seemed to feel his emotions, and let them have some say in his decision process. It was as if he were still human, only evolved, rather than dead and a zombie.

“How,” You muttered the word without realizing it; when Professor looked at you, you spoke a little louder, “How did you meet 10?”

Professor suddenly looked a little bashful, “W-well, I actually had a hand in making him what he’s become…”

You blinked, “What do you mean?”

“I’m a scientist, as I’ve said,” She started, “I started doing experiments on Hunters, to see if I could reign in their instincts—change them, somehow; so they wouldn’t be a bother to humans anymore, maybe even make it so they hunted other zombies.”

“Well, he’s not attacking you,” You offered, trying to get her to continue.

“No, but I’m the only one,” She said this darkly, before glancing at 10, “The experiment was, truthfully, a failure. The only thing that happened with 10 is a heightened intelligence and,” she stopped, blushing darkly, “W-well, other things….a-anyway, at some point, I’m not sure when, he attacked another experiment, and got another strain of the formula which made him stronger than the average hunter…I’m surprised Hunter wasn’t injured more.”

You nodded, your hand slowly finding Hunter’s skin, shivering at its cool temperature, “Hunter has defended me from a tank before….the day we first met face to face.”

Professor’s eyes widened, “A tank? Did he win?”

Her eyes were suddenly alight with interest and curiosity, so you answered, “I helped him, but I get the feeling he could have probably killed the tank without my help.”

Professor almost looked ready to squeal, “So my theory was right! A hunter /is/ stronger than a tank!” She saw your strange stare and explained, “A tank is ferocious, don’t get me wrong, but they have such big arms and upper body muscles, it’s really no surprise at their strength; a hunter, on the other hand, is usually built like a normal human, no rapid growth of muscles or extra fibers used, but haven’t you ever noticed that Hunter is amazingly strong for his size? If he were still human, he’d be a marvel of the ages, called a human superman.”

You nodded as she explained. It made sense now that you thought about it—truthfully, you never would have noticed, but that, you supposed, was the reason Professor was a scientist.

“What about Hunter?” She leaned forward a little, “Did he get exposed to a chemical or something to make him so human friendly?”

You blinked and looked down at Hunter, “Well…I don’t know really—when I entered Mercy City, I suddenly started to hear the constant growling of a hunter…I was expecting to die every other second, but then, a week after I came into the city, he suddenly saved me from dying, three different times.”

You shrugged, “I…well, I don’t think he’s been exposed to anything, but if he has been, it was before I knew him.”

Professor looked astonished, “If he’s never been exposed to anything, then this is the most amazing thing I’ve heard! He would be the next step in the virus’s evolution, and naturally!”

You looked at Hunter again, amazed—you knew he was unique, but an evolved hunter? You suddenly noticed that Hunter was swaying side to side slowly, like he was off balance.

“Hunter…?” you muttered his name, trying to get him to pay attention to you.

He responded, in a way, it leaned heavily into you, his body tense. Your eyes widened.

“Hunter?” You wrapped an arm around him.

He didn’t respond to your voice and horror sped through you, “HUNTER!”


	12. A Change, Just In Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:**  
>  THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACTIVITIES AND REFERENCES. THIS CHAPTER IS FOR SURE RATES MATURE FOR READERS OVER THE AGE OF 17.
> 
> Well, I hope that covers my butt.
> 
> This chapter is my lemon chapter, but my hope is that this is less a sex scene and more a moment where the reader and Hunter grow closer as beings.

You had never felt more healthy or alive as when you were tending to Hunter while he slept those next three days. He was so still and lifeless Professor had suggested, multiple times, that he might have expired. You didn’t know how—probably all the time you’ve spent with him—but you just knew that he was still alive; and he would prove it occasionally with his sleep-growling, or suddenly shifting like he was going to wake up.

You had no idea why he had suddenly collapsed, but you had been near hysterics afterward for almost an hour until Professor managed to get through to you and convince you to help her move Hunter into a secure building she had found.

Professor had her own theories as to why his condition had suddenly deteriorated, but when you asked, she would only say, “I’ll know for sure when he wakes up; I don’t want to put my foot in my mouth.”

That had been yesterday. You would admit you were curious, but you were far more concerned about Hunter.

You were resting next to him at the moment. You gently stroked his chest while you rested your head gently on his shoulder. He didn’t move or react to your touch, but you drew comfort from the touch anyway.

You didn’t hear her, but you knew Professor had entered the room and was staring at the both of you.

“You aren’t interrupting anything,” you glanced back with a small smile.

Professor smiled, “Well, you can never be sure…there are certainly things I wouldn’t want you to walk in on, and not just for my sake.” She laughed again.

You hadn’t met anyone who could laugh so freely in this zombie-wasteland, it was refreshing, but also a little nerve-wracking; like laughing in church during a funeral.

“You haven’t been out and about a lot, huh?” you hadn’t meant to ask it, but when she sat down, the words tumbled out of your mouth.

She almost looked embarrassed, “Is it so obvious?”

You gave a half-shrug, “Not so much, just small things.”

“Like?” she wasn’t looking at me, but there was still a friendly smile on her face.

“You laugh.”

“…?” her eyes met yours, “Is there something wrong with it?”

You shook your head, half worrying that you offended her, half too tired to do anything but continue and hope she understood what you were saying, “Out here, there’s not a lot of things to laugh about, so you kind of forget how.”

You smiled, “Though, it’s nice to hear someone laugh so freely.”

Professor blushed, “Well, I guess being locked up on the top floor of my lab during the initial outbreak probably had something to do with that.”

Once again, your memory stirred, but you couldn’t quite figure out why Professor seemed so familiar to you. You were positive that you had never met her before…

“I mean, even though I’ve been traveling with 10, I’ve never gotten over my nausea when I see a rotting zombie,” she said this lightly, but the impact threw your mind backwards in time.

_I was on a team of 30…led by a female doctor whose name is quite famous in the inner circles of virology…she has a weak stomach… when the zombies began to decay, she had to lock herself away from them, or risk being sick to her stomach all the time…everything turned on its head when the special infected started to appear…she became obsessed…with the Hunter_

Your head spun a little before you forced your focus back on the Professor and sat up.

She must have seen the look on your face, because her smile turned to a look of concern, “Are you okay?”

You felt your mouth go dry as you opened it to speak, “D…Do you know someone named Harmonie Jo?”

There was a pause and you almost thought you had the wrong woman, but suddenly, so suddenly that it almost scared you, Professor started to shake. No, tremble was more accurate a word.

“J-Jo?” Professor shook her head before clenching her hands together and forcing them in her lap, as if she wanted to control their shaking.

“So, you do know her?” You watched Professor, remembering how Jo talked about her.

“Yes, I,” she stopped and cleared her throat, “Jo was my best friend, before the outbreak.”

You blinked slowly, “You were?”

Professor laughed, “She would never have used the term, but I trusted her more than I trusted anyone; she was on my research team when we started studying the virus that’s killing everyone.”

Suddenly her eyes met yours, and curiosity was in her voice as she said, “How do _you_ know Jo?”

You quickly wished that you had never said anything; Jo was still a bare wound inside your chest; the way she died, the despair in her eyes as she compared you and herself when it came to Hunter and her lost lover. You never confronted it before now, but you really did blame yourself for her death.

“I…” you looked down, “I met her, right before I left Mercy City.”

Professor’s eyes lit up, “So she’s okay!?”

You looked away again, “N…No, she’s…she’s dead.”

Professor froze, “I-what? How can she be…?”

You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say—what, you didn’t know—but were quickly interrupted by the faint noise of growling coming from behind you.

Glancing back, you saw Hunter stirring.

You jumped as you heard Professor stand up, almost violently, “I need to get out of here.”

You tried to stand, “Professor, I’m sorry about Jo, but-”

“No, you don’t understand,” Professor was at the door, about to dive through it, “If my theory is correct, Hunter needs to see you first.”

She mumbled something about ‘not needing another one following’ her around before she slammed the door closed and everything was silent, except for Hunter’s growls, growing stronger behind you.

You turned toward him, letting Professor’s strange actions leave your mind slower than you liked. Hunter was awake; you should be focusing on him.

You focused on the said special infected, and you were surprised to see that his hood had fallen back and he had yet to correct it. Other than that one time you kissed him, he hadn't allowed his hood to leave his head, almost protective of the piece of cloth hiding his pale face.

“Hunter,” you started, before feeling a gasp leave your throat.

His eyes.

Before, they had been dead, but focused; now…they still didn’t look alive, but they looked _intelligent_. The color had darkened, the dull glaze had sharpened. You felt his eyes study you, and you shivered. The Hunter that you first met had made you feel like this: like an intelligent predator, ready to pounce and eat you at the drop of a hat.

The feeling had faded because you had realized he had no interest in eating you, and as such, you felt no fear toward your undead companion.

But now…the shiver proved that you were feeling _something_. You still didn't fear death at his hand, but you could still see a hungry look in his eyes. The kind of look you were used to getting when you walked down a street and a man would give you a catcall.

“Hunter?” you called his name again, and that seemed to be the signal for him to move.

He pounced you.

You felt a short scream leave your throat, his hips forcing their way between your legs. Your back hit the floor hard and you lost your breath for a few short seconds. His claws dug into the bedding beneath you and you could hear his claws tearing at them, forcing control back into his limbs. You hadn’t been this afraid of Hunter since you first met him, in that empty subway when death didn’t breath down your neck, but into your lungs.

“H-Hunter, what are you-” Your words stopped when his mouth moved against your neck, and drew another gasp from you.

His growl lowered into something like a purr, and his hips thrust against yours. And that’s when you first noticed it:

Hunter was erect.

You gasped again, your eyes widened at the realization. What had happened?

Hunter was doing all he could to keep his movements under his control. He was feeling overwhelmed by the suddenly onslaught of emotions, feelings, and thoughts, actual _thoughts_ that passed through his mind; not just useless jargle that he couldn’t understand—actual words and expressions that he could form into ideas.

_She still smells like the wind—she’s my flight…_

He heard your gasps, and it encouraged his clawed hands to move from their anchored positions next to your head. One of his hands moved toward your tattered shirt, feeling the skin just at the bottom edge and he felt a breath move from his center and come out like a sigh against the throbbing vein he had been nuzzling.

He heard you moan when his sigh came out and it encouraged him farther still. He didn’t know where his direction was coming from, but more than thought, _instinct_ told him he was doing it right.

His claws caught a nub on your breast and you moaned louder than before, unsure of his intent, but allowing his attention to continue.

You didn’t know why you let it go on, but it felt so right, so much like fate that if you stopped it, everything would stop. You’d wake up in your home, in the middle of the back-woods; your mother in the kitchen and your father in his den. You were guilty in admitting that you didn’t want that life anymore; you couldn’t go back to that knowing what you know now.

“Hunter…” you moaned his name as his fingers moved across your breast again.

He bucked against you harder and you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your hands moved up into his hair, which was stiff and unkempt, but felt like strands of yarn. His hands moved to your waist, where your pants were pushed off of your slim hips—hips that had lost weight in the state of near death you had been living in—and the feeling of being bare to him made your lower stomach shiver in anticipation.

Hunter pushed your legs up, until they were pressed into your chest and you tried to resist his movements. He let out a protest growl and his hips hit yours, harder than you expected. His bulge hit your exposed center and you near let out a scream from the shock of pleasure that you had to tightly close your eyes against.

You felt a claw gently drag across your cheek, and you slowly opened your eyes. His brow was knit with something that could only be concern. You smiled and gently touched his face, the same way he was touching yours and your heart felt light at the idea that this wasn’t a dream. He was _connecting_ with you.

His hand disappeared from your face and you could feel his pants moving against your bare skin. He pressed against you then, until you felt his throbbing member enter you.

You gasped and tried to arch your back; you turned your head as he stretched you out. Something ripped in you, but other than a minor annoyance, it caused nothing else in you, other than a cynical voice that had all but died in your mind: you lost your virginity to a zombie.

A moan was ripped from your throat, and ripped you from your thought as Hunter moved against you. It was a rhythm you quickly picked up, as his movement caused a burning pleasure that moved from the point of contact to your brain, pushing your thoughts out of control, out of existence.

You were a _feeling_ being, and so was Hunter. You were both feeling, tides of pleasure and measurements of time that escaped you both were boundless in comparison to this one simple fact:

You were One.

You felt your body tense and you let yourself scream, and then Hunter tumbled after you, letting out his cry into the room that did nothing but muffle the sounds.

You breathed hard, your body over-sensitized and not used to the feeling over overwhelmed activity.

You looked up at Hunter, whose eyes were so different, and you could read them, the way you used to read books:

_You are mine._

You smiled and closed your eyes, letting him own you completely in the moment.


	13. Moving Forward

“How did you know what would happen?” You leaned against Hunter, who was sitting in his usual fashion next to you.

“Well, I had a theory,” Professor blushed, looking down, “but it wasn’t confirmed until…well, all the noise, and yeah.”

You felt a blush as well, which actually cooled your fevered skin.

“S-sorry,” you looked down as well.

“No, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Professor said, “At least, that’s what I have to tell myself.”

You tilted your head, “So, you and 10….?”

She cleared her throat, “It’s embarrassing to think that I brought it on myself, but since you are an empathetic character, I suppose you deserve an explanation.”

You watched her; her body language told you a lot. She was sitting cross-legged, in an anchored way that proved to support her confident air. She didn’t shy away from 10, who found many ways to touch her, none as provocative as he obviously wanted, the way he would move his hands close to his targeted areas, but would either think better of it or from past experiences has learned to avoid.

“In my quest to create a serum that would modify a hunter’s instincts,” Professor started, “I hit a lot of dead ends, as you can imagine: serums that were ineffective, serums that changed the wrong instinct, or changed the correct instinct into the wrong response. It was a nightmare.”

“I can only imagine,” you gave her a comforting smile.

She nodded, “Well, in my quest for control, I created a serum that turned a hunters mind back on—essentially bringing certain parts back to life.”

“Which parts?” you tilted your head.

“The part that increases intelligence, and the part that operates sexual desire,” she explained, “I suspect I may have done something with the reproductive organs in order to make 10 _able_ to have sex.”

You glanced at Hunter and nodded slowly, “I didn’t think about that part, but I know what you mean.”

Professor continued as if you hadn’t spoken, “At the same time, I had created a serum that increased another hunter’s, number 7’s, senses and tripled his strength; he broke the glass in his cell and we had to terminate him.” Professor got quiet, “He killed a friend and colleague of mine, and that caused everything to go downhill…”

You didn’t speak as she continued, “I didn’t see it, but when I later found 7’s body, I saw evidence that it had been mutilated by another hunter, and 10 was the only one who had escaped.”

“And he obviously found a companion in you,” You offered, watching 10 touch her hair.

“Well, the first time, it didn’t seem like companionship,” Professor chuckled nervously, “I would have called it rape in normal society.”

You gave your own nervous laugh, glancing at Hunter again, who was still sitting in his usual pose, an anchor that you leaned on heavily, “Things seemed to have worked out, though.”

“Speaking of working out,” Professor said slowly, “Can you tell me more about Jo…?”

You froze, Jo’s face swimming in front of your eyes in the dark room. Jo’s eyes cut you like a knife, almost daring you: _Yes, tell her all about me; Tell her about how you damned me._

You swallowed and opened your mouth, “I can really only tell you about what I know, which isn’t much…”

“It’s enough, believe me,” Professor said anxiously, “When she left the labs, I was so worried about her; and now that I know she’s d-dead, I…”

She stopped talking and took a deep breath.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, and you really couldn’t even bring yourself to tell her how Jo had died.

“I…I don’t think I should be the one telling you this,” You said this quietly, “She had a safe house where she set up shop, in Mercy City. It’s on the corner of 8th and Germane.”

Professor looked pained, and obviously seemed to want to push you about the subject, but held back. For whatever reason, she held back. So she quickly changed the subject.

“When did you become infected?”

You looked at her, surprised.

“H-how did you…?” 

“Your pale skin, fevered look,” Professor’s eyes roamed your figure, listing off your symptoms, “The bloody bandage on your shoulder, which you haven’t changed or taken off at all—that and you just have the air of someone who’s dying, and I doubt you would bother moving around if you had a common cold.”

You couldn’t deny her logic, though it was flawed because of her obvious inexperience in the infected wasteland. You almost envied her naivety; a month and a half after the outbreak and she had been spared most of the horrors, could still call herself innocent for most of the terrible wreckage that reality had become. You hadn’t been able to call yourself that for so long…

You suddenly coughed, leaning heavier into Hunter’s side, hiding your face in his hoodie. You took a shaky breath and went into another coughing fit.

Professor kept her eyes on you, not moving to help, just watching your fit. Even she knew you were too far gone to help. You got control of your fit and forced your breathing to be calm—as if the fit had never occurred.

“Yes, I am infected,” you agreed, “I’ve been infected for about a month now.”

“How have you not succumbed?” Professor leaned forward, and her voice lowered, as if the both of you were partaking in a taboo discussion.

“I…I don’t know,” your hand tightened as it gripped Hunter’s hoodie, “I’ve just…survived.”

Professor didn’t focus on your answer as she threw another question at you, “Have your eyes always been that hazel-yellow color?”

You blinked, “My eyes are brown.”

“Not anymore,” Professor dug in her pocket and produced a pocket mirror. You didn’t know why she had it, or what use it had been to her, but when you took it, you looked at your reflection.

You almost dropped the mirror as you noticed that your dark eyes had indeed turned a bright hazel color. A color that almost consciously shifted to yellow as you thought about it. On top of that, you noticed that your skin had taken a waxy color, and was so pale it was almost translucent. You hardly recognized yourself.

“Oh god,” you moaned, “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re infected,” Professor shrugged, “Anything is fair game, especially if he virus is really evolving.”

You heard her aloof tone and knew she was punishing you for your lack of proper response to her questions about Jo. You didn’t care. You couldn’t take the blame for Jo’s death, not yet.

You looked at the mirror again. You couldn’t let yourself feel like the monster you were obviously becoming.

~*~

A week had passed since you first met Professor and now it was time to say your goodbyes.

Not much had happened since she had explained what had happened to Hunter. 10 and Hunter had come to an obvious agreement, almost a companionship. They did more than tolerate each other in the past two days; it couldn’t be discussed without saying they had become companion-like.

Professor had stopped being so cold, and you appreciated it. You made sure to point out the street names again so she could find Jo’s makeshift lab.

“I’m sorry to leave you in the state you’re in,” Professor watched your carefully; you had collapsed yesterday when the both of you had been out scouting for supplies.

“No, you need to take care of yourself and 10,” you said, leaning against the wall, “I will die by myself and with Hunter.”

She cringed at your use of words, “Still…”

“You need to go,” you were firmer than you felt, “You and I both know that we didn’t suddenly become best friends out here. You’re just too nice to admit you really don’t give a damn about what happens to me.”

You laughed then, like you hadn’t laughed in what felt like years.

Professor almost looked offended, “Of course I care about what happens to you; we may be strangers, but we’re survivors too.”

You didn’t know what she meant by that, but nodded in agreement.

“You be careful, Professor,” you said this sincerely, “We won’t meet again, but it was a nice to have some girl talk.”

She nodded and gave you a smile. It was a strained smile, one that was fighting to become a frown. You spoke again, as if to convince her.

“You and I both know that I’m infected,” you said quietly, “I won’t last much longer, and if I go feral, Hunter might just turn feral with me. I don’t want to have your death on my conscious too.”

Professor watched you, “Who else is on your conscious?”

You looked away.

“Jo?” She hit the nail on the head so hard that you actually started.

There was a long pause of silence in which you pushed off the wall and turned your back.

“I didn’t actually kill her, but I didn’t save her either.”

You couldn’t see Professor, which is why when the safe house door slammed shut, you jumped and looked.

Professor had stormed out, slamming the door behind her. You didn’t know if she left angry or sad and you don’t think you’ll ever know, but knowing that you were alone again almost made you fall to your knees.

Hunter nudged your leg.

No, you weren’t alone. Hunter was with you. He’d never leave you.

He’d never leave.


	14. Always Just A Little Longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE SEQUEL HAS BEEN POSTED! PLEASE ENJOY '...Of My Journey Down A Road...' POSTED TO MY 'THINGS' SERIES!

You stumbled into the safe house, pain wracking your body. You had never felt anything like this before. It was as if your soul were pleading with your body to let it go, let it go so the pain would stop.

You bit back a sob, refusing to cry from the pain. You still had strength left, enough to keep your mind and emotions together at least.

Hunter followed you into the safe house, watching you carefully. He knew you were in pain, though you were foolish enough to think you were hiding it. He had been able to sense your death for weeks now, and the shadow hung over you both, like a heavy blanket. He moved to your side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his lap.

You relaxed into his grip, comfort finding your tired mind. You couldn’t remember the last time you hadn’t felt so sick, it seems like such a long time ago—another life, lived by someone else, in another place, and another time.

You closed your eyes, feeling sleep trying to claim you. It pulled harder, and you allowed yourself to doze.

You didn’t want to die in your sleep, nor did you want to die in pain, but you knew that between the two, you’d rather go in your sleep. But not yet. No, you wanted to put it off, just for a little longer. You wanted to stay a little longer.

Always a little longer.

~~

You let out a short scream as another shriek of pain shot through your body. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your nerves sending an all-stop command to your mind, pleading for it to crash and give them a rest. You didn’t want to lose consciousness, because you thought you would never wake back up. You couldn’t let go of this moment, because it was this moment that you were still alive.

You could hear Hunter pacing in the room, worry or fear gripping him. He let out piercing screams that broke the monotony of pain.

He could smell your disease, like the odor of another male all over you. He wanted to get closer, to force the scent off of you, like a spot that should be cleansed. He couldn’t get any closer. He could sense your death. Sense it like the demon it was.

“H-Hunter…” you pushed yourself to speak.

Hunter went still, waiting for your next words.

“D-don’t worry,” You rolled over to face him slowly, forcing a smile. Sweat coated your body and you could feel it pouring off of you. You tried to take a deep breath, but a shock of pain forced it back out in a groan.

You remembered better times; even through the agony, you could still see the distance traveled, and the love that had grown. It had been weeks since Hunter had changed, and you both had shared many aching and fulfilling moments together. Your heart ached as you were reminded that you would never have another one.

Hunter moved slowly toward you, trying to sift through his feelings. He was angry that he was useless, pained by your pain, but fear was what gripped his insides tightly now. He knew you were fading, faster now than ever before.

He lay next to you, his forehead gently pressing into yours his arms wrapping tightly around you pulling you flush against him. His body was cool, and you could feel the difference in your fevered skin.

The thought crossed that you might come back, but despite the slowness of the virus to kill you, nothing had started to grow on your skin to show you were going to turn. You were willing to be anything, do anything to stay by his side, but even now you could feel the call of death.

“Hunter,” you said this softly, “I…”

You whimpered, feeling your body trying to thrash from the electric pain that hit your head, heart and nerves. Hunter held you tighter, helping to keep you still and calm.

Your voice took on a new weakness, “Hunter, I don’t want to leave you.”

You felt tears and closed your eyes, “Hunter, I don’t wanna die…I’m scared.”

Your eyes blurred from both the tears and from your consciousness slipping; you almost slipped away when you heard a voice.

_Don’t be afraid, I’m here._

You blinked, trying to focus. Hunter was the only other one in the room—he would have freaked if someone had entered, unless he already knew them. The voice didn’t sound like anyone you knew, except—

Your eyes widened. The dream you had, back when you were with Jo.

_I won’t let you fall, angel._

You felt calm as you realized the voice could only belong to Hunter. You didn’t know how, or why, but you wouldn’t let your logical side take this away from you. You needed him now.

You felt him breath against your skin, breathing deep as he took your scent.

_Your scent…it’s like the wind that travels high in the air—the wind that is moved by the wings of angels. You make me feel like I can fly. You gave me this gift over and over. I won’t leave. I won’t leave you alone._

“Hunter,” you murmured, your eyes drooping slowly, “I wish you and I had met before this outbreak.

“I wish I could have been stronger, so I wouldn’t be dying now,” Your voice cracked as you started to cry again, “I wanted to spend the rest of my natural life by your side.

“I-I’m so sorry,” You closed your eyes, not having the energy to sob.

_Why are you sorry, angel?_

“Because I never told you before;” You answered, feeling him tense as you answered his voice, “Told you that I love you.”

His body relaxed against yours, his voice going quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.

_I also love you._

You smiled and then tensed again as another wave of pain ran through you. Hunter tightened his hold on you, his feelings seeping out of his skin and into yours; it helped to dull the edge of the pain.

“I,” you gasped and tensed again, “I can’t—I can’t hold on…”

_…I know, angel. But…please, not yet…_ Hunter’s new emotions were all turning into desperation. He needed you to stay a little longer. Always just a little longer.

You tried to suppress a wave of terror that came with the next wave of pain that struck you, but you couldn’t stop the flow of tears. Each tear drained more energy, just at the electric shocks of pain tore it from your limbs.

“H….” you tried to speak, “Hunter”

He held you tightly through your next wave of pain. He couldn’t stop the utter dread, or the knowledge that the end was too close. It was too close, he wasn’t ready to let you go. You were HIS! He couldn’t just let you go to something as meaningless as death! He—

You didn’t move.

_Angel?_

You were limp in his arms.

_Angel…?_

You didn’t say anything to answer, nor did you breath.

_No, Angel…_

You were dead.

Hunter let out a roar over your dead body, a roar that lasted forever in the echoing room he now possessed alone. He filled his dead lungs again and let out another cry. And another. He let his new emotions pour out in the cry, but even as he tried to empty them out, they kept resurfacing, kept overflowing.

Dead. You were dead, but not undead. He couldn’t sense anything from you. You were gone.

_Gone._

Hunter let out another cry before pulling you tightly against his chest, and moving to sit against a wall. He cradled your broken body, his claws slowly and gently touching your cooling face. He couldn’t cry. He wanted to, but he couldn’t cry. Death, at last, showed him the real curse that had been laid before him.

He held you for untold hours and days. He didn’t feel time; he didn’t hear the outside world. All he saw was your cold face, all he felt was the empty pit that was growing in his insides. He wanted to hold you here, like this, for just a little longer.

Always just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. The End.
> 
> I have to say, of all the fanfics I've ever written (completed and imcomplete), this one has a special place in my heart. It was received really well and helped teach me a lot about my writing style.
> 
> THE SEQUEL HAS BEEN POSTED! PLEASE ENJOY '...Of My Journey Down A Road...' POSTED TO MY 'THINGS' SERIES!


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